Fallout
by caskett-case
Summary: In which Castle and Beckett deal with the aftermath of solving Johanna's murder. Nothing but Caskett love. Rated T for language and freedom later on. Loosely based off of the events of Knockout.
1. Sunday Punch: Chapter One

_A/N: Well, howdy everyone. So, this is an idea that as been ruminating in my mind for a few weeks now, and I finally have it down and feel confident in putting it out here. Basically, I took some of the spoilers for the last few episodes of this season, so WARNING, if you want to stay spoiler-free, tread with caution. _

_This takes place right after "Knockout", and for now, I have not followed the spoiler that one of the characters dies. I might tie that in later in the story in my own way, but for now, everyone is alive and well. _

_Can you tell that I am kind of nervous about posting this? I just hope it goes over well, and I really hope that you all like it. So when you're done with the first chapter, review please? It's always important for me to know what's good and what's bad or if I should just scrap this altogether. I'd appreciate it. _

_OH: Another thing. This story is subdivided not only in chapters but in parts- pretty much because I think I'm so clever and came up with titles for them that fit well. For example: Part One is called "Sunday Punch." The episodes revolving around Johanna Beckett's murder have all been named after boxing terms, so that's where the titles for the parts come in. "Sunday punch" is essentially just a synonym for knockout punch or a destructive blow. Ingenious, right? So maybe that gives you an inkling that this might get a little dark at times. But don't worry. There will still be plenty of fluff to go around._

_Quick disclaimer: I don't own Castle. But Mr. Marlowe, or any Castle staff who may, for some reason unbeknownst to me, see this... I'm available. Feel free to hire me. (I'm just kidding around of course, but wouldn't that be awesome?) _

_Ahem- also, rated T for language and other risque themes that always come up when dealing with two consenting adults pursuing a relationship._

_Okay.. since this has gotten atrociously lengthy, I'm shutting up now. Here's the real story. Enjoy, my dears. Let me know what ya think._

_PS: Italics (other than this, obviously) indicate flashbacks. I swear I'm done until the chapter's over._

* * *

><p><span>Part One: Sunday Punch<span>

_She never imagined the solving of her mother's case to be this big._

_-  
><em>**Chapter One  
><strong>_-_

He came to her door that afternoon armed with an overflowing paper bag from a local market.

"Hi," she offered meekly when she saw him.

His Adam's apple bobbed up and down as he raked his eyes over her slender form. This was a side of Kate Beckett he had not yet seen, and he would have been content with not having to see it.

She was wearing (more like drowning in) a gray hoodie with the NYPD insignia stamped across the breast in navy blue and baggy black athletic shorts which ghosted against the middle of her knee. The hood was up but was doing a poor job of concealing her mussed hair and tear-streaked face. Her eyes were bloodshot, a pale pink from her crying.

She was disillusioned. She was vulnerable.

"Hey," he finally responded with a hint of a smile. "Everything okay?"

She sniffled and brushed a sagging sleeve of the hoodie across her face, wiping stray tears from her cheeks. She let out a ragged, congested breath.

"I'm fine. I'm fine."

He cocked his head to the side and narrowed his eyes in concern.

"You're not fine."

She averted her gaze to her feet, careful not to make eye contact. Careful not to break.

She peered up after a few moments, just barely, and fixed upon the bag that dangled from his hand.

"What did you bring?" she asked, eyes unmoving.

He grabbed the twisted handles with both hands now, opening the bag and reaching for its contents.

"We have…" he began. "The first three seasons of _Temptation Lane_ on DVD."

Her eyes followed his hand as he pulled out three thick rectangular cases of DVDs, replaced them, and then retracted his hand with a mass of fleece in his grasp.

"…The fleeciest, warmest, most comforting blanket in the Castle household…"

He stuffed the blanket back down into the bag, rummaged around a bit, and then removed a violet Tupperware box, handing it to her.

He finally met her eyes as he continued, pulling out a tub of ice cream and also extending it toward her.

"And oatmeal cookies and strawberry ice cream."

He saw the look of surprise on her face and, before she could respond, he clarified, "Lanie. She told me that they're comfort food."

She tore her eyes away from his, nervously drumming her fingers across the top of the tub of ice cream, cradling it and the Tupperware in her arms. He swore he saw a hint of a smile tug her lips.

"Thank you, Castle," she replied, voice still raspy and strained.

He nodded. "Always."

Her heart thudded hard against her chest when he said it. So simple, but so dense in meaning. _Always_. It was their word, their implicit promise to each other. And she knew that he meant it.

She remained quiet for some time before finally offering, "Do you want to come in?"

"Sure," he almost immediately responded.

She stepped out of the door frame and allowed him to walk past her into the apartment. He whirled around to face her as she closed the door behind them, raising the bag higher and pointing to it.

"_Temptation Lane_?"

She averted her gaze to the ground again with the slightest smile, causing the oversized hood of the sweatshirt to drape over her eyes in what he thought was the most adorable thing he had ever seen.

She peered up at him through green eyes partially covered by the edge of the hood, and lightly chuckling at herself, nodded.

He offered her the DVDs and trailed her as they made their way from the vestibule to her couch. He sat himself down and sunk into the sofa's plush warmth, pulling out the blanket and wrapping himself in its feathery fleece.

She pressed play on her DVD player and then came to sit beside him, playfully tugging on a corner of the blanket.

"Don't hog it all," she chided.

He sighed heavily and then smirked, offering the entire blanket to her. She surprised him when she shifted closer to him, their outer thighs pressing together, and she threw the velvety spread over both of them.

"I just need to be close to someone right now," she explained, snuggling into the blanket, covering her body up to her chin and burrowing against his broad shoulder.

He just nodded, understandingly, recalling what she had told him when she first revealed to him her guilty pleasure_. It makes me feel like home and…safe._ He knew that what she needed right now was comfort. She needed to feel safe.

It was her mother's case that was beating her up inside. It had only taken about four months- fifteen visits, if he recalled correctly- for Lockwood to reveal who had hired him to kill John Raglan. Whether he had simply had a change of heart like Ebeneezer Scrooge or had been threatened and roughed up by larger, more powerful inmates, he didn't know. Neither did she. All they knew was that on the day she came to visit him just under one week ago- May 16th, it was- he was willing to talk.

_She had begun the visit by interrogating him with the unchanging question, "Who hired you?" Then, she sat leaned back in the chair across from him, waiting. She must have eyed him for at least five minutes before she finally saw something in his dark eyes. A glimpse of remorse. So she had asked him again- waiting, waiting, waiting. _

_After another ten minutes of a staring contest, he had jerked his head away from her and clenched his jaw, shaking his head. _

"_You'll never touch 'em," he muttered caustically. _

_She leaned forward at this and placed her hands on the cold, unfriendly iron table, clamping them together, eyes fixing on his distraught face. _

"_I've heard that a lot. That doesn't help. Tell me," she murmured. _

_He whipped his head back to her again, his pale, cold blue eyes meeting hers. _

"_The Mayor."_

_Her stomach had dropped, her insides curdling with an ill, sinking feeling. _

_She shook her head. "You're lying to me."_

_He simply smirked. "I swear." _

_Her blood was boiling now. "Swear a little harder."_

_He had sighed, his face softening and becoming more sincere. "Trust me."_

_She had scoffed at that, furiously blinking back tears now and chewing her lower lip to keep it from quivering. "Well then why does he keep letting Castle follow me around? Why didn't he order a hit on me after I killed Coonan?"_

"_He did."_

_Her body went stiff at this, and she sat up straighter._

"_I've worked for the Mayor for awhile… And I was ordered to take a hit on you," he continued with the same maniacal smirk on his face. _

_She shivered uncomfortably as the greasy criminal went on. _

"_I tried. I set my sights on you. But then, things quieted down. We kept our eyes on you, but we had bigger fish to fry, you know?" _

_She cringed, and rage flooded her body as he revealed this- the corruption going on right at the heart of the city. _

"_McAllister gave us a tip on Raglan- said he was dying or something. Was thinking of righting his wrongs. That was when he knew that something was up. So we got him, and I tried to get you too, but that little Writer Monkey of yours got to me before I could shoot."_

_She tore her eyes away and stared down at her folded hands, frozen. _

"_I was your next target." _

_She was barely able to process it, accept it, make sense of it. _

She could only recall bits and pieces of the days that followed. She remembered Captain Montgomery shouting his disbelief, smashing pictures of the Mayor that were framed in his office. She remembered having dinner at her apartment with her father later that week, a security detail guarding the place. She remembered Ryan and Esposito holding her up whenever she faltered as they debated their next moves. She remembered Lanie offering a girl talk session and slumber party if she didn't feel comfortable staying home. And she remembered Castle standing right beside her every step of the way, barely leaving her, other than to be with Martha and Alexis, through every dangerous hour.

They had arrested the mayor of New York City. The same mayor who had been around nineteen years ago, as a deputy mayor, to watch his predecessor help cover up the conspiracy with Raglan's kidnapping ring. The same mayor who took over three years later and became involved in the conspiracy himself. The same mayor who had Johanna Beckett and her colleagues killed. And the same mayor who both Beckett and Castle- hell, the whole damn city- had trusted, who had allowed him to shadow the detective.

And the most sickening part of it all was watching him admit to it. The whole city of New York, the whole state, the whole country, watched as the mayor was taken out of office and into the Metropolitan Correctional Center. The NYPD was, naturally, thrown into the chaos, and at the epicenter of the quake it caused was Kate Beckett.

She was quickly showered with praise from the media, naming her a heroine of the city for "tirelessly working for the greater good of the city." She had been offered countless interviews and PR opportunities in the past days but declined every one of them. _She wasn't ready. _Instead, she holed up in her apartment, contemplating and sorting everything that had transpired since she visited Lockwood.

She had avoided the precinct as much as possible since the arrest and ensuing media frenzy, avoided going out in public, reading the _Times_ or the _Wall Street Journal_, or turning on the TV to see coverage on the local news. She needed to process everything first. _Why had the Mayor not revoked Castle's all-access pass? Who was she now that her driving force to be a detective had been solved? What did that make her?_

So when Castle showed up at her door that afternoon, she couldn't have been more grateful. She needed comfort. She needed him.

**XxXxXxXxXxX **

Kate had fallen asleep midway through the third episode.

She was so fatigued and so wounded. It gave him peace of mind to know that she was able to fall asleep. Her eyes had begun to flutter shut early into their soap opera marathon, though she fought to stay awake. Finally, she had dozed off into a serene slumber, falling limp against his shoulder.

He chuckled as she emitted the smallest snore, jaw hanging wide open. _She was so damn cute. _

He would have moved to grab the remote to stop the DVD, but he couldn't bear to wake her. So he remained still, relaxed further into the couch, and closed his eyes, drifting into his own fitful sleep.

He was disturbed when he felt movement against his right arm. Not just small nudges, but violent jerks and twists. His eyes shot open when he heard whimpers, and he adjusted himself the slightest bit to see Kate Beckett still asleep on his shoulder.

However, she wasn't nearly as peaceful as she had been before. She was the source of the harsh pushing against his side, and when he caught a glimpse of her furrowed brow, he could see the rapid movement of her eyes beneath her lids. She was having a nightmare.

She let out another whimper and thrashed against him again, and he finally reached around her shoulders and clung to her, shaking her gently.

"Kate," he leaned down and whispered into her ear. "Kate, wake up."

She suddenly went still, aside from her breathing, which came out jagged and quickly.

She continued panting, and her eyes shot open as she jerked forward. The blanket fell to the carpet, and her hand reflexively flew to his knee, clutching it tightly.

Her breathing slowed considerably as he calmingly rubbed up and down her back, and she finally turned to stare down at her hand on his leg.

"Kate," he mumbled, his fingers lazily tracing patterns along her shoulderblades. "Are you okay?"

She peered up at him through tortured eyes, a tempest of emotion brewing in them.

"You're alive," she barely choked out, eyes welling with tears.

He grimaced, and his eyes became more serious and concerned.

"Yeah," he replied. "I'm here. I'm okay."

He gently placed his other hand on top of hers, still resting on his knee, and continued to rub her back in soft, soothing, massaging motions.

"Kate, are you okay?"

She suddenly broke away from his touch, repositioning herself so that she sat cross-legged on the couch, facing toward him.

She placed slightly trembling hands in her lap and stared down at them, her hood once again brushing over her eyes.

He remained silent, his head craned toward her, patiently waiting for her to talk.

The silence lingered a few moments longer until she sniffled and let out a sigh.

"The night I shot Coonan," she began. "I had…a nightmare."

He leaned forward at this, resting his on his knees, and listened.

"And…" she trailed off, peering off into the distance, pursing her lips and shaking her head, as if she was afraid that she would appear weak or stupid for letting a figment of her imagination scare her. "In that nightmare, you were the one lying on the ground. You were the one who was shot."

He knit his brow and covered one of her hands with his, gently stroking it with his thumb.

"It only happened that one night," she continued. "And then it came back the day Raglan was shot."

She met his eyes now.

"And then again when we caught Lockwood…and then, last week…"

He squeezed her hand comfortingly as her lip began to quiver.

"Some nights it'll come back," she murmured, her voice straining against an onslaught of tears, cracking as she went on. "Sometimes it doesn't. And it's so scary because I never know when I'm going to see that image of you lying on the ground and me standing there knowing that I can't save you."

Her body was shaking now; the lump in her throat became painful and constricting. She gasped out a breath and began sobbing, tears overflowing and leaving tracks down her cheeks.

He instinctively tugged the hand he held and brought her closer. She collapsed into him, wrapping her arms around his neck, burying her face in the crook of his neck.

His fingers brushed her back, and sobs wracked her body.

"Shh," he cooed. "I'm here. I'm okay. We're safe."

She fought for breath, inhaling sharply and coughing, gripping the back of his shirt.

"Why did he let you stay, Castle?" she croaked, barely audible as his shoulder muffled her voice.

He rocked her back and forth in his arms, one hand crawling up to the back of her head underneath the hoodie, letting it slide off her head. He stroked her hair and pulled her closer to him, resting his cheek against her. He mumbled, "I don't know, Kate."

She stayed in his arms for some time before finally pulling back, eyes glistening with tears and cheeks tinted red. She hunched on her knees and placed her hands against his chest, one hand reaching toward the wet blotch along his collarbone. "God, I'm a wreck. I'm sorry- look at you. I got you all…wet."

He noticed a coy grin playing on her lips.

"That came out dirtier than you intended, didn't it?" he smirked.

She huffed out a tiny laugh and slapped his chest playfully.

"No," she defended. "I was just expecting you to make a comment."

The smile on his face faded, and he reached out to wipe away a tear that escaped her eye.

"Don't be sorry."

She offered him a thin smile in return and swung her legs around so that she was sitting beside him, thighs just barely touching, much like they had been before.

She smeared the sleeves of her sweatshirt across her face, wanting to erase every tear and every amount of evidence of her crying. She blew out a puff of air, tending to her matted bangs and static strands on the top of her head.

Missing the contact between their fingertips, he reached for her hand again, intertwining them together and resting them on his knee. She cautiously met his gaze.

"You know I mean it when I say that I'll always be there for you."

His tone was solemn and genuine, and he stared at her intensely as he spoke.

She swore that he could hear her heartbeat as it pulsated through her veins, causing her breath to catch and her eardrums to throb with noise. They were treading on dangerous ground, and they both were aware of it. She had broken up with Josh almost a month ago, and lately, the writer and his muse had been especially flirtatious in their banter. And with all the events that had occurred lately, from Royce's murder to her mother's case, he had been especially comforting.

With Josh out of the way, it slowly became more and more clear to her, until the words _"I want you so badly"_ almost seemed to be plastered across his forehead.

He had done so much for her: gifts, going to movies, chasing her to LA and back, becoming visibly jealous as his young protégé came to town and charmed her, saved her life too many times to count…

And he would have done anything to make her happy. Which was exactly why he was here right now, holding her hand, _comforting_ her like he had been all along.

So she dove in. There was no doubt in her mind anymore that Richard Castle was falling in love with her, and she couldn't deny anymore something that had been brewing inside of her for so long now.

She wanted him.

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><p><em>Continue? Scrap? Love? Hate? Indifferent? <em>

_Review. I heart feedback. _


	2. Sunday Punch: Chapter Two

_Re-updated 4/24 to fix grammar and spelling errors._

_A/N: This paragraph is completely unrelated to the story. This is something I have thought about before, but today, it came to me again, and I realized something. Being the sports geek that I am, I know that the Boston Red Sox have a pitcher with the last name Beckett. I was thinking about that earlier today, and thought, "Oh my gosh.. His first name is Josh." Isn't that weird? So yeah, random fun fact. I now hate Josh Beckett. ;)_

_Anyway, my dad made this comment today that put me in the greatest Caskett-y mood. We were talking about "The Dead Pool", and we're both pretty much fangirling about the episode. So he says, "Those two are going to end up together yet. I can't wait for that. I'd really like to see the first time they make love because that would just be…wow." I was like, Dad, you are SUCH a shipper. Even he knows the world is going to pretty much explode when Caskett gets together! So anyway, for some reason, that put a big smile on my face, and here I am with your second chapter._

_How about some relevant information? Because this is the most random author's note I have probably ever written. I just want to say THANK YOU to everyone who reviewed so far. I really hope you guys keep reviewing too because it really does inspire me to keep writing and, as you already know I'm sure, knowing that you have tons of reviews is like a badge of honor for a fanfic writer. It really means a lot when you guys review, so thank you so much. _

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><p><span>Part One: Sunday Punch<span>

-  
><strong>Chapter Two<strong>  
>-<p>

"Kate," he had been mumbling, waving his free hand in front of her face. "Earth to Beckett."

Her eyebrows jumped, and her head suddenly swiveled toward him with startled eyes.

"Huh?"

"You zoned out," he said with an amused smile. Then, softer, curiously, he asked, "What are you thinking about?"

Her lips parted slightly, and she gazed at him for a moment in silence. She'd never know whether it was her haggard emotional state or simply the exhilarating feeling she got, knowing that they were sitting so close, her body warmed by his, that possessed her to do it. But she did it.

She dove in.

"You know," she began timidly, peering down at their intertwined fingers. "When Josh and I broke up… right after we came back from L.A. …it wasn't because he was going to Haiti."

He watched her intently as she frowned, and that little line appeared above her brow like it always did when she was frustrated or upset.

"I mean, yeah," she continued, now averting her eyes to the blank television screen before them. "He went to Haiti, but that wasn't really _why_ we broke up."

She gulped, and green met blue in a powerful gaze.

"_I just wish we could spend more time together," she said. _

_They had been in the middle of a rare dinner together, sitting in Josh's apartment, when the trill of his cell phone interrupted them. A patient of his was having complications after a transplant. He wasn't on call, but his associates could really use his assistance. Would he be able to come down to the hospital?_

"_Well, so do I, Kate. But there's nothing we can do about it if we're always working." _

"_I know, I know. Our schedules are just so different, and it's hard. We've had this conversation dozens of times. But I've been trying, Josh. I've been trying not to spend all my nights at the precinct till the wee hours of the morning."_

"_Well, it's hard to plan around surgeries," he replied flatly, rising from the table with his plate, heading to drop it in the sink._

_Her anger was rising now._

"_And it's even harder to plan around murder. Yet I'm the one who's making the effort."_

_He threw his hands up defensively as the plate and utensils fell into the sink with a 'cla-clunk.'_

"_Now that's not fair."_

"_No," she continued, standing and taking a step toward him. "You know what isn't fair? Me making an effort, and you going to Africa while I'm back here dealing with my mom's murder…"_

_And that was when he snapped. _

"_I gave up Haiti to stay when you got yourself locked in a freezer! Because I care about you!"_

_Her jaw was set, her arms crossed. He stared back at her wildly, breathing heavily as he tried to calm himself down._

"_And nothing changed after that." _

"_Damn it, Kate. I _am_ trying," he growled._

"_That is such bullshit! You're never around!" she shot back._

"_I try so hard to open up to you emotionally, though. You _never _do that. I know so little about your mom. And you only told me about her murder after I happened to find that board at your place."_

_Her blood was boiling._

"_Josh, I don't like to share those kinds of things with many people. Those are some really deep wounds, and I thought you understood that."_

"_I did!" he exclaimed._

_She placed her hands firmly on her hips, clearly expecting him to explain._

"_Kate, you and that Castle just chased a criminal across the country, and the only reason I found out that the guy murdered was your former mentor was because I read his obituary in the paper. So how come the writer can get so much of you, and I can't?"_

_He did not go there. No, he did _not_ just go there. _Fuck.

_She let out an exasperated sigh, clenching her fists, gritting her teeth. She knew that if she lost her composure, she would only paint herself further into a corner. So she shut her eyes, relaxed her shoulders, and, as calmly as possible, continued._

"_Because he's someone I trust, Josh. He's my friend. He's been there for me when I needed it."_

_A crestfallen look crossed his face, and he shook his head, contempt in his eyes._

"_And I bet he knows all about your mom," he spat._

_She plunked down on his couch, placed her hands on her face, creating a steeple with them, and pressed her index fingers into the corners of her eyes. _

"_What does he even have to do with this, Josh?"_

_Now he was just frustrated. _

"_How much does he know?"_

_She squeezed her eyes shut and massaged the bridge of her nose with her fingers. _

_Tense silence followed. _

_After a beat, she sighed and mumbled, "Everything, Josh. Everything. I wouldn't know what I do now about her murder if it wasn't for him."_

_He grabbed his jacket, hanging on a stool by the kitchen counter._

"_Josh," she called out sternly, rising from the couch. But he only brushed past her._

"_Josh?"_

_He whirled around when he reached the door._

"_He cares about you, Kate. He does. You know, you were the first thing he asked about when he woke up in that ambulance. I've seen the way he looks at you. He cares about you."_

_Her heart skipped a beat at that, even though she tried to convince herself that it hadn't. It shouldn't. No. Josh should be the one making her heart flutter. Josh should be the perfect man for her. He should be. _

_But he wasn't. _

"_That doesn't-," she began in protest, but he interrupted her._

"_Almost four months into our relationship, none of your friends even knew about us, Kate. And he did a shitty job keeping that jealous hurt puppy look off his face when he found out."_

_She gulped, keeping her eyes fixed on a corner of the saxony carpet._

"_Josh, I'm so sorry," she offered with a lump in her throat, her voice just barely above a whisper._

_He just shook his head. _

"_It's always been him, Kate. I'll never be what you need."_

Castle stared at her, grimacing, his hand still entwined with hers. She turned away from him again, eyes concentrating on the black coffee table.

"So he broke up with you because of _me_?"

She turned to look at him, his eyes remorseful and face sullen.

Her lips parted slightly, and then they snapped shut again. She bit her lower lip, looked away and then mumbled, "No, Castle."

He cocked his head, and his brows shunted even further inward.

"Well then what do you mean? Why are you telling me this?" he queried with confusion in his voice.

"_I_ broke up with him because of you."

His eyebrows arched high on his forehead.

He wasn't sure how he kept himself from melting into a puddle right there in her living room. It sent a juddering sensation down his spine and caused every neuron in his body to fire and tingle with an indescribable sensation.

"Kate."

He barely choked her name out, his breath still hitched.

"Why in the hell would you choose me over him?" he asked with an almost incredulous tone.

He had been under the impression that they were happy, so very happy. She had given him another chance. And he would give her space. If she was content with Doctor Moped or whatever the hell his name was, then so be it. But apparently, she hadn't been.

_She chose me. _

He placed his emphasis on that simple pronoun. _Me._ Not _him._

"Look, Rick…" she trailed off.

Their eyes met again, his intense baby blue irises disarming her. _Eyegasms,_ Lanie affectionately called them.

"I just wanted you to know that because you have been there for me every single time I needed someone. Even right now. And I really, really appreciate that. I _need_ that. And I'm not quite sure what all this means yet. For me. For _us…_"

He smiled faintly at that. There was a possibility of _us_. Of them. Together.

She took a heavy breath before adding, "But what I do know is that there's something there. There's some sort of feelings there for you."

It was like a fantasy- only better. His imaginative mind had dreamt about so many different ways for this moment to unfold, much more creative and glamorous scenarios. But there was something so _real_ about this, that nothing could overshadow how extraordinary it truly was.

He nodded, moving his hand from its place in hers and wrapping it protectively around her knee.

"But there is just way too much going on right now for me to jump into something, and I couldn't risk putting anyone close to me in danger. I have to do this alone, Castle."

He noticed the tears brewing in her eyes and squeezed her leg gently.

"And this is part of the reason why I need to take a leave of absence from the precinct over the summer. I need to figure things out. I need some time away, and I don't want to get caught in the media circus."

He tried to hide a grimace that crossed his face, nodding understandingly.

"I'm going to New Haven to stay with my dad until things die down a little bit. I already talked to Montgomery, and he gets it. So I'll probably be gone all summer."

He nodded again, slowly.

"But I'll see you in the fall?"

His question created a moment of poignant nostalgia as she recalled standing in the precinct last May, watching him waltz off with Gina as she asked him the same question.

"Of course," she responded sincerely, and after a few seconds, added with a faint smile tugging her lips, "And I promise that I won't come back with a new boyfriend."

He gave her a sad smile in return and placed an arm around her shoulders.

"I just want to take this slow."

His face softened into a more tender smile, and he replied, "I understand."

She leaned in and pressed her lips against his cheek.

"Thank you," she whispered against his ear, giving him a tickling sensation as her voice rang deep in his eardrum.

"Always."

* * *

><p><em>Awww. So please don't hate me for having them spend the summer apart. I just think that it's way more likely for it to happen like this rather than have them jump into a relationship over the summer because 1.) We would miss out on so much and 2.) Kate's emotional state is pretty much compromised at this point, the poor girl. The next one or two chapters will probably be a brief summary of their summers, and then we can really get into the action! Sound good? I hope so.<em>

_I really hope you guys are enjoying the story! Please let me know with your reviews! Trust me, the more I get, the faster I tend to update. All you fellow writers, you get what I'm saying. lol. _

_So anyway, THANK YOU again for your wonderful reviews, and let me know what ya think about this chapter! Happy Easter if you celebrate, and happy Earth Day / spring break / spring in general if you don't! :)_


	3. Sunday Punch: Chapter Three

_A/N: I just want everyone to take a moment to fangirl over last night's episode. Michael Royce is the official rep. for all Caskett shippers, I think. Seriously. I love, love, loved it. _

_..._

_Okay. Fangirling over. So... this chapter turned out way different than when I originally outlined it in my head- and that's not a bad thing. I actually think this will be way better. It will satisfy.. well. Never mind. I'll let you see for yourselves. If you don't infer it this chapter, you'll get it for sure in the next one. Yay for cryptic spoilers? I promise I'll try my best to make the next update quicker. Prom is this weekend though, and I'm on court, and AP tests... so it'll be reallyyy busy. But we'll see. _

_So anyway, I'll keep this short and end by saying I hope you enjoy this. :)_

* * *

><p><span>Part One: Sunday Punch<span>

-  
><strong>Chapter Three<strong>  
>-<p>

They agreed to keep in contact with each other, though to a limited extent. It made sense. Kate wouldn't be able to fully escape the city if she was texting or emailing him- or was secretly stalking his Twitter (something she vowed to never give him the satisfaction of knowing).

He had gone to the Hamptons for Memorial Day weekend with Martha and Alexis, being very cautious when he would head down to the beach, wondering if he would find another dead body this year. The last thing he wanted was to assist a murder investigation.

But he didn't spend the summer in a fortress of his downy comforter in his king-sized bed at the beach house. He stayed after Martha and Alexis returned to the city, to make progress on _Heat Rises_, but went back to Manhattan for a week when Alexis finished school.

He almost went insane in just that one week.

Every time he turned on a news channel, in some way, shape, or form, the scandal of the mayor was covered. Whether it was briefly mentioned or was a top story, it was there. And it never ceased to upset him.

_The mayor._ He ruminated over the moment they put the pieces together and figured it out, the moment he knew he was trapped and finally confessed. Castle had watched from outside the interrogation room, nearly doubling over from the sick feeling in his gut.

He no longer saw warmth or mirth in his friend's eyes. He was only a sinister sociopath, dark pupils gleaming with malevolence. Just the image made him sick all over again.

Why _had_ he let him continue shadowing Beckett? The question had stuck with him ever since Kate had brought it up.

There were plenty of explanations that made logical sense, he found. The mayor never thought that Castle's shadowing would lead to the re-opening of the case. If fact, perhaps it would hinder any chance of it. Beckett would be having to keep her eyes on Castle whenever he was around, and that was less time for her to spend looking back at the murder. And after Coonan, after Raglan, it would have looked much too suspicious to suddenly pull Castle from the precinct. Even if he did so under the pretense that he was too much of a liability, it would still seem odd, especially to the vigilant detective. Plus, having Castle hanging around Beckett could work to his benefit. The writer could act as an unknowing spy- aiding the mayor without him even realizing it. His poker games, Knicks games, social events, everything. All he would have to do was ask about his work at the 12th, maybe dig a little, and hopefully find out anything he wanted to know.

That _bastard._

He needed to get out of that damn town.

He wanted out of New York, so he flew to the other side of the country, to Los Angeles, to Maurice and the cozy confines of a suite eerily similar to the one he and Beckett had shared less than a month earlier. He kept tabs on the progress of the Nikki Heat movie, and, in the mean time, toured Stanford (her likely choice, considering it was Ashley's future school), Berkeley, and USC with Martha and Alexis. (He had suggested that Martha stay behind to work more on her acting school, but she insisted that her opinion of the right college for Alexis was absolutely imperative.)

He headed down to the set one humid morning to find Natalie Rhodes, fresh out of rehab, chatting with the director.

They spotted each other, greeted each other with the obligatory celebrity kiss on the cheek, and made small talk.

She asked how Kate was doing- she had heard all about the big scandal back in New York.

He told her that everyone was holding up well- she had taken some time off, and he was working on his next novel. But he left it at that.

There was nothing spectacular about the meeting, other than the fact that no matter where he went, Kate and Johanna Beckett always seemed to follow. The case. Kate. It was all ubiquitous.

Rick all but begged Martha and Alexis to stay in LA for another week or so, and his mother did not go without noticing his mopey behavior. She finally confronted him about it one afternoon as he idly tapped around on his keyboard.

"Penny for your thoughts?"

He gave that resigned smile he got when he knew there was no point in trying to avoid her.

"Oh, just writing," he stated plainly.

She sat down on the other side of the couch he was resting on, and delicately asked, "Everything okay, Richard? You've seemed a little down the past few days."

He shut the laptop and faced her.

"It's Beckett's mom's case," he mumbled.

She grimaced and reached out to him, placing a motherly, comforting hand on his shoulder.

"Richard, dear, I'm sure that Kate is doing fine. She needs time. You know that."

"I know, I just- I keep worrying about her."

Her hand slid up his shoulder to his cheek, which she gave a loving pinch.

"Look at my boy- smitten!"

He rubbed at his cheek where her fingers had tweaked him, trying to erase the red tint that was coloring his flesh.

"Mother," he warned.

"Oh, Richard! I'm only teasing! And if you're so worried about her, why don't you call her? Have you even talked to her lately?"

He considered that for a moment. They had spoken a few times, just to check up on each other. They would only talk to each other once or twice a week, if that. He would tell her about his adventures in LA- _and by the way, Natalie Rhodes says hi-_ and she would tell him about the time she was spending with her father- _my dad hopes you're all doing well, and be sure to say hi to Alexis and Martha for me._ But there was no talk to the case. None.

"We've talked," he confirmed.

"So then what is your problem, my dear boy?"

He leaned forward, and in a hushed tone, he said, "Look, I've been thinking more about the case. And I think we missed something."

"Richard! That's nonsense. You caught your perp or dirtbag or whatever you all call them up at the precinct," she admonished, flamboyantly waving her arms about as she spoke.

_Great, she's in actress mode. _

"Yeah, but it doesn't make sense."

"What doesn't make sense about it? Guy confesses, case closed. I thought that was the way it worked."

"_Mom."_

Martha's mouth snapped shut, and she stared blankly back at her son, whose face was stern and humorless.

"Look. Maybe it's not even that we missed something. But something just… it just doesn't feel right, okay? I don't know what it is. It's weird."

From a place across from Rick, his phone suddenly roared in frenzied vibration, screen illuminating.

Martha rolled her eyes and grabbed it.

"Damn thing's been going off all day. Would you just answer it?"

He feigned concentration, reopening the laptop and fixing his eyes upon it once again, furiously typing "kjafl;ksjafl;kdjfl;kdsjfal;skfjldskjflksdl;l;;ljl;nikkiiiiiiiiii" on the page to make it seem as though he was hard at work.

"Oh, for Heaven's sake! I'll answer it," she cried.

"Hello?"

The voice on the other end was unintelligible to him as he slowly, slyly leaned toward Martha to try and overhear the conversation.

"Oh, yes! Detective Esposito. Sorry, Richard's in a bit of a bind right now, but I would be glad to take a message. Certainly, it must be important considering he has eleven missed calls…"

She noticed her son's sudden proximity and swatted him away. He made an attempt to speak, but she held an index finger in front of his face.

She was silent for a few moments, and her face suddenly shifted from a state of amusement to one of utter sorrow.

"Oh, dear. Oh, my goodness gracious… I- yes, he should be able to come back. How- okay. Okay, well how about I have him call you back? Yes. Yes. He will get back to you as soon as possible…Absolutely. Okay. Okay. Will do."

And with that, she ended the call.

Her face was horror-stricken, a ghostly, pale white.

"What's wrong?" he demanded, unease quickly overtaking him.

"Richard…" she murmured, her voice eerily soft. "There's been a murder."

**XxXxXxXxXxX**

She always remembered important dates and numbers. She wasn't quite sure why- they were just something her subconscious etched into her memory, and she'd come to expect it. She was incredibly well-versed in memorizing. One time, when she was twelve, her mother had left her credit card laying out on the kitchen counter. Kate, a bright sixth-grader who relished in putting her mind to the test, regurgitated the sixteen digits back to her mom within a minute, when she had descended down the stairs again to grab it. Around tax time, when she was fifteen, she memorized her father's, mother's, and her own social security numbers in only a few minutes. It was just something she did.

The flip flops she was wearing had cost $1.99 at Old Navy. Her SAT score had been a 1510. May 19th, 1994, was the day she had gotten her drivers' license. January 11th, 1996, was the day she received her acceptance letter from NYU. January 9th, 1999, was the day her mother had been murdered.

Today was June 29th, 2011. There was nothing memorable about it.

She had been swinging idly back and forth on a nylon hammock in the backyard of her father's sea cottage, waves gurgling and crashing against the wet sand, leaving tangled fishing nets long forgotten and lost and various garbage on the shore, as if the water itself was undergoing a sort of catharsis.

_It was almost symbolic,_ she mused. In the past month, she had been able to escape the confines of the 12th Precinct, of Manhattan, of the noisy, bustling, pulsating city. She had time to sleep in as late as she wanted. She had time to go for morning runs along the beach or admire the violet, cerise, and tangerine hues of the sunset. She had time to think about her mother, about her future as a cop. She had time to spend with her father- reconnecting, talking about anything and everything.

She also had time to think about everything that had happened with Castle.

She mulled over it every day, sometimes for hours. Surprisingly, she had figured a lot of things out. She knew they were looking for the same things- they both wanted a stable relationship full of trust and understanding. And she finally realized that she wasn't going to find that anywhere else. At least, it wouldn't feel_ right_ with anyone else.

But she still needed a few questions answered. What had caused his two marriages to collapse? What other layers of the Castle onion had she not yet peeled?

They had been talking- mostly texts, a couple calls. Just friendly conversations here and there- _how are you? I'm fine. Enjoying the ocean. Good to hear from you. Oh, you toured Stanford? Ashley's going there, and Alexis is thinking of graduating early to go there too? Wow. Tell her I say hi._

There was no talk of her mother. He didn't ask, and she didn't say, and she appreciated that he respected her wanting to decompress and not address what they'd been through recently. Not yet. She was processing. _Healing_, perhaps.

So she continued to let her mind wander as the hammock continued to sway with the gentle breeze. She was content with life at that moment. She was sorting her life out, compartmentalizing, and it was oddly refreshing, albeit quite emotional. Her emotions ranged from euphoria to despondency, from sweet and agreeable to downright harsh. Her moods swung just as the hammock did- sometimes gradually or soothingly and other times abrupt and violent, depending on the force of the wind. But she knew that feeling these feelings were essential. So she tried to embrace it as much as she could.

And then the wind shifted course again with the trill of her cell phone. She picked it up off the small lawn table next to her and peered at the caller ID.

_Call from…_

_Detective Ryan_

_11:18 AM June 29, 2011_

She faltered when she saw the name. She had spoken with her partners at the 12th since she left, but not much. As with Castle, it was just a text or email to check in,

With confusion in her tone, she answered.

"Ryan?"

"Hey, Beckett. Long time no talk. How've ya been?"

There was something off about his tone, but she couldn't quite pinpoint it.

"I'm okay…" she petered off, her concern growing.

An uncomfortable silence followed.

Then suddenly, "You need to come back to New York."

Her heart knocked against her chest, and her eyes widened. She tried to form a response but only spit out vowel and consonant sounds.

She finally puckered her lips and murmured, "What happened?"

His voice was shaky when he continued.

"There's been...a murder. We-"

He faltered.

"Look. We could really use your help."

Kate Beckett always remembered important numbers and dates.

One of them would be June 29th.

* * *

><p><em>AN part deux: So random backstory about some of the chapter- the part about Beckett. I always picture Beckett as being an incredibly intelligent woman, hence her high fictional SAT score. ;) Also, the whole memorization thing- it's something I do myself, and I just thought it might be interesting to incorporate into this chapter once I got an idea of how it would go. Another thing- any guesses as to who the victim is?_

_One more thing, I promise, and it mainly concerns you. Yes, you. And everyone reading this. I just want to say thank you SO much for your reviews. Honestly, I appreciate it so much, and your response to this story has been fantastic. Forty reviews for the first two chapters? That's quite outstanding. No, no, no...extraordinary. YOU guys are extraordinary. So thank you so much- and I am in the process of replying to all of your reviews. I've gotten through most of them but still have more left. I will reply to every one of them; I will. Sometimes, it just takes me awhile. So just in case you haven't heard from me- you will. And you can hear it now- THANK YOU. _

_So lemme know what ya think with your reviews! :)_


	4. Sunday Punch: Chapter Four

_Re-updated 5/29 for grammar, spelling, and to add some things. _

_Time for an A/N, wouldn't you say? First of all, I hope everyone is enjoying the summer hiatus so far (*collective groan* - please, who would enjoy four months of no Castle?) But as I mentioned, that gap will be filled with some fanfiction. _

_Speaking of fanfiction- I am so sorry for the long wait for this. School is winding down, and well, you know how teachers like to pile on projects toward the end, so I really haven't had much time to write. Besides, I only have just come out of the Caskett coma I was in from the finale. _

_Speaking of the finale… you might not believe me when I say this, but the original plan was to have Montgomery be the third cop and be the one who ended up being killed in this fic. Honestly, I guessed it before the show, but I wasn't sure how you guys would like that, so I waited to see what the writers of the show did to make the decision of who I would kill off. All I'm going to say is that I might have done what they did, or I might have taken a different path. You'll find out in about a minute or two, depending on how fast you read._

_Other than that, I really don't have much to say. Enjoy, guys. And I can make you this promise- the next update will not take almost a month. This will have more frequent updates. I'm not going to be as bogged down when summer comes around. Just some fun travelling and college visits. I can't wait for this summer. It's seriously going to be one of the best yet. And then, when it's over, CASTLE'S BACK!_

_One more random note- I think it's so funny how here we all are, saying, "I CAN'T HANDLE AN ENTIRE SUMMER WITHOUT NEW CASTLE! I can't wait until it's over!" That's just so…backwards from the norm, you know? Here we are, wanting summer to be over because we want new Castle. I just find that hilarious. So, if it helps, look at it this way- we get summer! (some of us, that is. If you're from the Southern Hemisphere, I'm sorry. I don't know what to tell you or how your school terms work.) And fanfiction! And then, when that's over…new Castle! And more fanfiction! Yay!_

_Seriously. Done now. Have a glorious Memorial Day weekend, everyone._

* * *

><p><span>Part One: Sunday Punch<span>

_-  
><em>**Chapter Four  
><strong>_-_

The 12th precinct was more a funeral home than a police station when she returned later that day. She had become more cognizant of the dark navy uniforms of the beat cops, and Perlmutter's slouching gait was much more pronounced. The Manhattan sky was especially dark for 9:30 on a muggy Wednesday night in June. A terribly gloomy atmosphere had descended upon the place, and no one had to say anything to figure out why.

She was beginning to place the few pictures and notes she had accumulated in her one short afternoon back into a semblance of order on the murder board when the familiar voice of Detective Ryan broke her concentration.

"Welcome back, boss."

He meant it to be sincere, but the greeting came out cheerless, and he wished that their reunion had been because of a much happier occasion and not a murder.

Especially when the murder hit so close to home.

Captain Montgomery hadn't done anything wrong, not that anyone at the 12th knew of. He was an honorable man, a role model to Ryan and Esposito, a father figure to Beckett, a hero to his city. And now he was dead.

He _couldn't_ have done anything wrong.

Beckett simply nodded to Ryan in response, accompanied by a small forced smile.

"Hey, Lanie wanted to see you. Did you get a chance to go down to the morgue?"

She nodded again, absentmindedly, losing herself in her thoughts at the mention of Lanie, replaying her brief meeting with the ME and Esposito.

_Kate's entire body quaked as she pressed a hand up against the cold double doors of the morgue. She ran her lower lip over the edge of her teeth nervously, peering through the door._

_Lanie was hovering over a body, a stoic look on her face. No matter who the body beneath her was, she had been trained to remain collected. It was a job requirement. And even now, as the usually stalwart Esposito began to crumple into her arms, she remained stolid. Clinical._

_She held the brawny detective in her arms, rubbing small circles on his back, burying her face in his shoulder to keep her emotions at bay. _

_Kate gripped the door handle tightly, her knuckles turning white. _

_She shifted her weight back and forth on her feet for a few seconds longer and, finally, she entered the morgue._

_Lanie's head brushed against Esposito's chin, turning to face Kate. She gave her friend a solemn smile._

_Kate's eyes met the pale, graying face of Captain Montgomery, and she shuddered involuntarily._

"_Is that...?" _

_Lanie grimaced. _

"_It is, baby."_

_She slowly made her way around the side of the slab, examining the body, clothed in white, and her mouth fell agape with shock. She embraced the medical examiner and closed her eyes as she peeked over her shoulder at the lifeless body of Roy Montgomery, cauding her to cringe in horror. _

_She pulled away from Lanie, her friend's hand sliding down her arm and holding Kate's comfortingly._

"_Officer Stegner informed me that there's something else you need to tell me about the murder."_

_She squeezed Kate's deathly cold fingers and sighed. _

"_Yeah."_

_She let go of the detective's hand, leading her to the cold chambers and reaching for a drawer, carefully pulling the handle and revealing the body of a white man- mid 30's, dirty blonde hair, clean shaven face, dark, lifeless eyes. Kate eyed the other body with a confused gaze._

_Lanie noticed this and clarified, "He wasn't alone."_

_Kate's head shot up and stared at her, aghast._

"_I'm sorry?"_

"_Single gunshot wound to the brain killed him. Name is David Adler, according to the ID," Esposito said. _

_"And what about Montgomery?"_

"_Bruising shows he put up a fight," Lanie began, gesturing back to the captain's body. _

_Kate paused momentarily, staring down at the body quizzically, before whipping her head back to Lanie. _

"_You think Adler's the killer?"_

_"We found them both just outside the Montgomery house. Neighbors said they heard several shots go off. They were both holding guns, and ballistics ran the bullets. The bullet in Adler's head matches Montgomery's gun, and vice-versa. Looks like Adler shot him first- the pattern of the shots proves that- in the chest. The bullet struck his aortic valve. He bled out in a matter of minutes, but got a shot off at Adler before he lost consciousness."_

_Kate shook her head in dismay, and her gaze shot toward Esposito. _

"_You and Ryan run everything you can get on Adler. Chances are this is a fake identity, and there's almost no doubt in my mind the hit was ordered. It just… it doesn't make sense." _

Two hours had passed since then, and she figured that Ryan was here to tell her that Adler was a dead end and just happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time, or that all technology had shut down and they only had the archaic murder board at their disposal to help them with the case for the time being, or something _bad._ Kate's mind was going a million miles a minute, shifting from Montgomery to the officers to the Commissioner to his family…

_Oh god_, his family.

Ryan had been babbling on about the trajectory of the bullets or something. She wasn't really sure. She just stood there, arms folded, a curled fist up against her lips, deep in her own thoughts.

Kate finally interrupted him as the image of a horror-stricken Evelyn Montgomery ran through her mind and sent a chill through her, meekly asking, "How's his wife holding up?"

Ryan pointed to Montgomery's office across the way from them.

"We told her you were coming," he added and was about to continue, but she cut him off.

She simply nodded in affirmation and began to weave through frantic detectives until she made it across the bullpen to her captain's office. Ryan, still frozen by the murder board and a bit dumbfounded, never had the chance to stop her.

Kate sighed when she reached the door, curtains drawn. A slightly trembling hand reached out and grabbed the door handle, twisting.

"Evelyn?" she greeted in an eerily soft tone, poking her head in to the room.

"Kate," she replied, rising from her husband's chair. Kate Beckett had only met Evelyn Montgomery a few times her life- mostly for city-wide functions and birthday parties- but she knew her well enough to know the distraught, haggard look on her face.

"Evelyn, I'm so-"

"It's not your fault," she said sternly.

She was rigid, fists clenched, and she had turned her back to Kate as she rummaged around for the "emergency flask" she knew her husband kept hidden somewhere in his office.

"I should have never-"

"Don't beat yourself up about this, Detective Beckett. It's my fault, all... all my fault."

Evelyn whirled around again, and Kate could see the tears in her eyes.

"...it's my fault," she kept repeating, sinking against a file cabinet.

"I just want this to be over…" Evelyn continued, barely above a whisper.

"I thought it was, Evelyn. I thought it was… I'm so sorry…" she trailed off, exasperation in her voice.

Kate grimaced as her voice faltered and then walked toward the grieving woman, placing a comforting hand on her shoulder.

"Don't say it's your fault. It's not…"

Her lip began to quiver, and her voice cracked when she responded.

"…I should have been with him. We were going to go to dinner and…"

Evelyn's hand dropped unresponsively to her side, and Kate grabbed it, squeezing it.

"Evelyn… Mrs. Montgomery," she mumbled. "I know what it's like to lose someone, and you're going to start asking yourself 'what if?' and play out every different scenario in your head, wondering what you could have done differently. But I want you to know something- it's definitely _not_ your fault. This never should have happened. We all thought it was over, okay? And if it's not my fault, it sure as hell isn't yours."

Evelyn let out a deep, long, jagged breath and gulped down the lump in her throat.

"Thank you."

It was weak; her voice was fragile, but she was completely sincere.

Kate just nodded, offering her a thin smile, and squeezed her shoulder again.

"Look, I know this is hard, and we're almost positive we've got the man who killed him. But we need to cover all our bases here, so we don't miss anything this time."

Mrs. Montgomery let out another shaky breath, steeling herself. Beckett made her way over to the door and allowed her to exit first.

The pair crossed the bullpen and began heading toward Esposito's desk when a voice called out from behind them.

"Castle!"

It was Ryan.

Kate whipped around to find Ryan waving toward the elevator, and sure enough, there was Castle, a Java Loft travel cup in each hand.

Kate's heart stopped at the sight of him in a wrinkled plaid patterned shirt, his bangs messily hanging down over his forehead, with loose fitting, dark jeans drifting over the tops of his boot-clad feet. As he came nearer, she could see the bags under his eyes and the lines on his face.

"Looks like your shadow's back," Evelyn quipped, producing a smile from Kate, which she mirrored.

"Hey," she offered quietly as he finally approached them.

He smiled and, in a raspy, fatigued voice, returned, "Hey," handing her both cups of coffee. Their eyes lingered on each other for a few moments longer than they should have, each studying the expression on the other's face.

Castle opened his mouth, as if he suddenly remembered something, and he abruptly turned to Evelyn and extended his arms. Much to his surprise, the woman, barely an acquaintance to him, didn't jerk back or tense up. She simply fell into him and embraced him warmly.

"I'm so sorry, Mrs. Montgomery."

She pulled back, nodded, placed a dark hand on his cheek, and with a grimace, responded, "Thank you, Mr. Castle."

He offered her a warm smile in response, and then turned back toward Beckett and Ryan.

"So what's happening?" The serious, despondent tone in his voice did not go unnoticed.

"Here, why don't you take this," she replied, handing him his coffee, "and we can check in with Esposito?"

They were greeted with a "Yo" from Esposito, who cupped his hand and allowed Castle to peck at his palm in one of their trademark "Feed the Birds" handshakes.

"Good to see ya, bro."

"Likewise," Castle replied with a small smirk.

"Yo, Beckett. So I just got off the phone with Adler's sister, Sherry, who lived in the apartment below him. Said he was a pretty lonely guy- workaholic lawyer who worked at Andrews and Hodgins Law Offices-"

"Andrews and Hodgins…" Beckett repeated. The name sounded eerily familiar.

After a beat, Ryan piped up, "Formerly Mitchell and Goetz."

This earned a puzzled look from Esposito.

"Yeah?"

Coming from Beckett, "That's where my mom used to work."

The three men turned toward the detective, visibly shaken. She huffed out a distressed sigh and met their gazes.

"Okay, what else?"

Ryan continued. "So, as I was trying to tell you earlier when you were zoning out..." He shot her a knowing look laced with brotherly affection, trying to lighten the mood, and this earned him an eye roll and a hint of a smile.

"She said that Adler didn't have many friends, but she did know he was hanging around with this one guy- older, burly- so I got the description, and this is what the sketch artist came up with."

Ryan nodded to Esposito, who ripped a thick sheet of paper from a sketch pad he was holding, handing it to Beckett. Staring back at her was a round face with a receding hairline, straight-faced and stubble-chinned.

_Gary McAllister._

"Let's go get the son of a bitch."

**XxXxXxXxXxX**

"Richard, you have mail," Martha called out as soon as she heard the door slam shut later that evening.

"As usual…," he responded, warily.

"Richard," Martha approached him, handing him a manila envelope.

"This was dropped off directly by a Mrs. Evelyn Montgomery about an hour ago."

Castle met his mother's concerned gaze with a wild, wide-eyed shock, and his body shuddered when he took the envelope in his hands and saw the return address.

_Captain Roy Montgomery. _

"Mom…"

"She said she found it on his desk with a note to give it to you if something were to happen. Open it, Richard."

With trembling hands, he broke the seal and removed two sheets of handwritten notes, in the penmanship of none other than the Captain. It was dated June 28th, 2011, one day earlier.

_There's something that you need to know, and before I say it, I beg forgiveness from you- all of you- and want you to know that I never meant to hurt anyone. _

_I did it. I was the third cop. And I know that such bluntness might be hard for you to swallow, but you need to know that because I can't let you go on with wrapping up this case, not while you're in harm's way. And you need to know what really happened that night._

Castle paused, and it suddenly occurred to him why something about the case had felt so..._off. _

It had only been conjecture that the mayor had been the third man involved in the kidnapping ring. And Castle never bought it for a second. It wasn't how he would write it, but he knew that when it came to Johanna Beckett's case, Kate would never take that sort of theory from him.

But it all fit together now.

_I was a rookie when it happened. Raglan and McAllister were heroes to me. I had no idea what we were doing, didn't know how wrong it was. We were just supposed to snatch Pulgatti and get out. But Armen was there, and he grabbed my gun, and it went off. I was scared out of my mind, and I remember McAllister telling me, "It's okay, kid. It's not your fault. Happens in this town everyday." _

_And they tried to bury it. The Mayor took the ransom money, and he became what he is today because of what we did. I had no hand in killing Johanna Beckett or any of her colleagues- And I ask you, please let Kate know that. When she walked into the 12th, it was like I was feeling the hand of God. I knew He was giving me a second chance, and I gave everything I had to protect her the way I should have protected Johanna and the entire city all those years ago. _

_I know they're coming after me, Castle. They can't let me live. I don't know if any of you can forgive me for this, but I mean it when I say that I am so sorry. I had no idea what the repercussions of this would be, and that's why I put everything I had into this job. _

_Something else you need to know: Bob employed four snipers- Dick Coonan and Hal Lockwood were two of them. The other ones went by the aliases of David Adler and Nathaniel Held. They both pose as lawyers at the same law firm Johanna Beckett worked at. Adler and Held are still out there, and as long as Bob is alive, he's going to be gunning for Kate. He wants me dead, though, Rick. He doesn't kill any more than he has to- keeps the trail cold. But he's after me because I'm the only thing standing in his way of his plan to get Kate. But I'm seeing to that he won't pull it off. I'm dropping this off rather than sending it through the mail to keep them off your tail, and I'm sending it to you because I know that I can trust it in your hands. Do me a favor and protect her. Stop her from going down the rabbit hole. I never could. You can. _

_He knows it's over, and he wants revenge. I know this is my last stand, Castle. I know that I might die tonight, or tomorrow, or maybe, if I'm lucky, I'll still be around when you get this._ _As soon as you get this, I need you to go take action. Go to the 12th. Take this to Ryan and Esposito. Look on my desk for a note that says " Call the plumber" with a phone number on it. That's Jordan Shaw's number. _

_Again, I apologize for keeping this a secret from you, but I knew that if Kate knew about this, she wouldn't have any of it. I called up the Feds a little over a month ago, right before the arrest and everything. I kept in contact with Shaw because I knew that if something were to go wrong or if things started to get out of hand, she's one of the few agents who Beckett and all of you at the precinct would trust. I need you to call her now. She knows what's going on. She'll send in agents and hopefully start to straighten things out. Who knows, she might even be able to get us out of this mess and get me out alive. _

_In the event that I do not make it out alive, please let my family know how much I love them. And please, do not make this any bigger than it has to be. Just let Kate, Lanie, Kevin, and Javier know how much of a joy it has been to work with them and how damn proud I am of them. Please tell Kate that I only wanted to protect her and her mother. I hope she can forgive me. Tell her she's the best homicide detective I have ever seen, and I couldn't bear letting her throw her life away._

_That's why I need you to handle this. Tell Ryan and Esposito first, but break the news to her immediately after. She needs to know what's going on, but you can't let her try to stop it. She's too damn headstrong to even take that risk._

_PS- None of you will be in danger. Shaw knows to put security details on everyone in the precinct, yourself included. Keep yourselves out of trouble. Maybe I'll see you around. Maybe._

He felt a chill go through him when he read the ominous last lines.

And then, he didn't waste another second, grabbing his jacket, tucking the envelope under his arm, and sprinting to the 12th precinct.

* * *

><p><em>So, something I forgot to add to the original AN: How do you guys feel about Shaw reprising her role? Wanna see her come back for a little bit? I don't know about you guys, but she was definitely my favorite guest star (Dana Delany is so kick-ass). Let me know how you feel about a possible Shaw comeback in your reviews!_

_Also, I sense some good Caskett coming up. Don't you?_

_There are probably mistakes- spelling, grammar, diction, etc., and I take responsibility for those. Trust me, I will go back and fix them as soon as I am not doped up on cold medicine (my throat and left lung are absolutely killing me). Another thing- I'm super anxious to know what you guys thought of the chapter because I'm not sure how much I like it, so I'm automatically under the impression that you all will hate it. So please take the time to review because I would really like to know what you think of this chapter in particular. I'm just unsure of it. _

_One last thing- Again, I promise that the next chapter won't take as long. Just be patient and bear with me, and in a few weeks, I'll be churning chapters out pretty regularly. _

_And to you all- thanks so, so much making chapter three the most reviewed chapter yet, guys. I'm continually floored by your comments. You guys are the best._

_Let me know what you think of this one!_


	5. Sunday Punch: Chapter Five

_**_IMPORTANT! _**_I need to say THANK YOU to all the wonderful people who reviewed last chapter. I thought it sucked honestly, especially the letter from Montgomery, so to know that you guys liked it was seriously just... awesome. Thanks especially to **stevieLUVSalex, LittleLizzieZentara, Rick13, Amybf19, teeduo, Lor-mats, Widget, GenevaAthena, BlueTigress, SilverStella, castlecrazy, Guest, merry-merry-me, NCIS-Addict-4427**, **redheadednursey, phnxgrl, Beckett NYPD, xfcastle, imperceptibly, aolande1, knockoutXcaskett,** and anyone else I accidently forgot. Thank you for reviewing the last chapter and saying it didn't suck. :) You're the best. All of you. Even the ones who didn't review. You're still badass. __

__Y'all make my day. __

_Update time._

_Honestly, this should have been up last night, but then I came home from work, and the freaking thunderstorms rolled in! It was so bad, and I couldn't risk getting electrocuted just to get this chapter up. So here it is now._

_As you'll see, I laced one or two of the events from Knockout into this chapter, so now this fic is becoming kind of an AU/post-finale fic. I like it._

_I'm going to keep this short and just say this- I have the next chapter halfway done and will try to have it up as soon as possible. Next week, probably. I have the ACT on Saturday and am going to Kentucky on Sunday for a few days to visit all my horsey friends. Woot woot. (I'm a total horse/horse racing nerd, by the way.) (:_

_So anyway, I hope you guys enjoy it. _

* * *

><p><span>Part One: Sunday Punch<span>

_-  
><em>**Chapter Five  
><strong>_-_

Federal agent Jordan Shaw was sound asleep in her family's apartment in Chelsea, her husband's arms wrapped around her bare stomach in the sticky Manhattan heat. She was resting, a lulling calm veiling the entire neighborhood, it seemed, and it was a feeling welcomed by Shaw.

But being the workaholic that she was, Shaw kept her cell phone at her bedside, knowing she was on call if something terrible were to happen during the night.

Sometimes it did, and other times, it did not. And even after almost twenty years with the FBI, she never failed to be disappointed when her sleep was interrupted.

Because contrary to popular belief, Agent Shaw slept.

Unfortunately for her, crime did not.

So it didn't completely surprise her when the trill of her phone jarred both her and Jason from their slumber.

She sighed, reacting her husband's muffled order of "answer it" by wriggling out of his grasp and reaching over to pick up the device.

The first thing she noticed was the time. It was just after midnight. The second thing she noticed was the number. There was no caller ID.

"Hello," she answered, a hint of grogginess still in her voice.

"Agent Shaw," a male, Latin voice spoke on the other end. "This is Detective Javier Esposito from the 12th precinct."

At this, she sat straight up in the bed, reaching for the lamp on the desk beside her, turning it on. She had a feeling she wasn't going back to sleep.

"I remember you, Esposito," she answered evenly and then quipped, "What reason do you have for disturbing my beauty sleep?"

"Captain Montgomery has been in contact with you," he replied, and the added force in his voice did not go unnoticed by Shaw.

She was not the kind to be easily rattled, but the tone of his voice caused her to shift uncomfortably.

"He has."

"He informed us that we should call you in the event that something happened to him."

Her breath caught in her throat as Esposito elaborated, telling her what had happened to Montgomery.

She had known Esposito was going to call, and she had known that Montgomery was in grave danger, but part of her was had wanted to believe that the captain would make it out alright.

She told him to give her team an hour, and they would be there.

Jordan rose from the bed, much to Jason's dismay, and traveled to her closet in search of a business suit- even late at night, she had to make herself look presentable.

Like clockwork, Agents Shaw and Avery charged into the 12th with a cavalry of others from the FBI within the next hour.

She could already imagine the ruggedly handsome author fidgeting in his seat, another case of hero-worship for her setting in, sitting next to Detective- god, what was the little Irish one's name? Raley? Ryan?

But when she approached Esposito and Ryan, there was no Richard Castle- nor did she see a certain Detective Beckett- just a host of stern officers eager to please and impress the higher-ups.

"Agent Shaw," Esposito greeted as she walked up to him, offering her a handshake.

"Esposito," she nodded in response.

"We have a copy of the letter Montgomery sent," he said, handing it to her. "Basically, it tells us everything that you already know. I take it you guys will be wanting to set up the war room?"

He gestured to the agents carrying electronics and high-tech gadgets past them.

"We've already begun, if that's alright."

She pointed to a room where Agent Avery had already begun to dictate orders to set up smart boards and sort information.

"That's fine, yeah. What do you need from us?"

"Get a list of all the lawyers at Andrews and Hodgins. I want them all in my custody by tomorrow afternoon. Got it?"

"Yes, ma'am," Ryan and Esposito answered in unison.

"One more thing," she added before she turned to walk away.

"Yeah?"

With an amused smirk on her face, she asked, "Where's the dynamic duo?"

**XxXxXxXxXxX**

"_You know what you need to do now, right?" Esposito asked him after placing the letter back into the envelope._

"_What?"_

_The detective grimaced and handed the package back to Castle._

"_Tell her." _

Richard Castle was not easily flustered or made nervous, but there was one woman who could continually do so without fail.

He had been nervously pacing back and forth outside apartment 208 for the past three minutes, raising his hand to ring the doorbell, dropping it, sighing, pacing, repeating.

The mere thought of her reaction frightened him, and consequently, he had been trying to craft the strongest, most well-thought-out reason he could create as to why he had shown up at her apartment at midnight unannounced, and why the FBI would be camping out at the precinct for the next few days.

But the one reason that stuck out the most was telling her the truth.

Montgomery wanted to protect her. Castle wanted to protect her. Everybody wanted to protect each other.

He once more raised his finger to the doorbell but jumped back in surprise as her door suddenly swung open, and a stunned Kate Beckett stood before him.

"Beckett?" he squeaked.

"Castle?"

He stuttered for a moment before asking, "What are you doing?"

"I should ask you the same!"

"I was…," he faltered, debating whether he should be honest with her or whip up a sensationalized story in the next five seconds.

He decided on something in between.

"I was just coming to check up on you."

"I'm fine," she answered flatly.

His facial expression became stern and concerned at this.

"Clearly not if you were about to leave your place at midnight to go God-knows-where."

She scoffed. "Who said I was leaving? Maybe I just thought I heard pacing outside my apartment and thought some stalker was hanging outside my door."

He gave her a disapproving frown and gestured to her hand, resting at her side, something dangling from it.

"You're holding your keys."

She shifted her weight and crossed her arms defiantly.

"You don't have to hide from me like this, you know."

"Castle, I-"

"Where were you going?" he interjected, a tone of reproach pervading his voice.

Her gaze fell from his eyes to the ground.

"To the precinct," she mumbled.

_Not a moment too soon,_ he thought, breathing a heavy sigh of relief.

She noticed this.

"What?"

He froze, opened his mouth, closed it, opened it again, before plainly and simply informing her, "I need to tell you something."

Her front teeth found her lower lip and bit down slightly, waiting.

When he didn't move, only watched her for the next few moments, she figured this was something he did not want to discuss out in the hallway.

She sighed.

"Do you want to come in?"

He only nodded hesitantly, nervously, in response, and she led him inside, wheeling around to face him when she heard the door click shut.

She shrugged her shoulders and anxiously asked, "So what is it?"

He stalled. He almost stopped breathing. He began several times but could never articulate. Instead, he reached into his coat pocket, and with a slightly trembling hand, produced an envelope.

He handed it to her.

"What is this?"

Not meeting her eyes, he replied, "Montgomery sent it to me."

She grabbed it from him, eyeing him warily as she sat down on the couch and flipped open the already broken seal of the manila envelope.

He watched her the entire time she read until she peered up at him, signaling she had finished.

Her voice came out deep, even, eerily calm, as if she were on the brink of exploding.

"You called Agent Shaw, didn't you?"

He held out his hands submissively and began to explain.

"Evelyn dropped it off for me sometime tonight. I went home, my mother gave it to me, I read it. Then, I went to the precinct and showed Ryan and Esposito, and then I came straight here."

She leaned back against the couch, running a hand through her hair with more force than was necessary.

"Why didn't you come to me first?"

Exasperated now, he cried, "Did you read the letter?"

She rose from the couch. Her angry, narrowed eyes met his, and her voice came out much less calmly, almost shakily.

"Castle, this is my mother's case."

"And it's gotten out of hand. Otherwise, Montgomery would have wanted you to be the first to know about what he'd been doing. But he _knew_ you wouldn't want the Feds involved."

She just placed her hands on her hips, unable to look at him.

He reached out for her, tried to walk toward her, but she turned her back to him and walked in the opposite direction.

He let out a frustrated sigh.

"You know, I didn't want to do this. I didn't want to make you angry. I would never want to h-"

"Castle," she interrupted him, whirling around to look at him from across the room. "Please leave. I'm too tired to argue."

"Kate, please-"

"Castle, I mean it. I can't deal with this right now," she stated firmly.

But he stood his ground and tried moving toward her again, distress wracking his voice.

"I don't want to see you like this, Kate. I just want to protect you. And I sure as hell don't want to see you get yourself killed, okay? I'm your partner. I'm your friend."

"Friends? Is that what we are, Castle?"

He straightened up, cocking his head to the side and taking in the sight of her- silently screaming for his help on the inside, yet so determined to push him away on the outside.

"You know what; I don't know what we are. We kiss, and then we never talk about it. We nearly die frozen in each others arms, but we never talk about it. So no, I got no clue what we are. I know I don't want to see you throw your life away."

He had closed the distance between them considerably as he spoke, the proximity of his large frame paralyzing her.

"Castle-" she croaked.

But she was cut off when her cell phone rang.

"Beckett," she greeted in her usual clipped tone.

The unintelligible voice on the other end did most of the talking, with Beckett giving simple responses of "okay" and "yeah, see you soon."

She dove away from Castle as she ended the call moments later, striding to the kitchen, where she had left her jacket and purse when she had let Castle in.

He took a few steps toward her again and called out, "Who was that?"

Annoyed, and yieldingly, as she knew he wouldn't stop pestering her, she replied.

"That was Ryan. They want me down at the precinct. And I swear to God, if you show up… Just don't, okay? I mean it, Castle. Besides, Martha and Alexis are probably worried sick about you."

She all but sprinted to the door, holding it open for him, ushering him out. He followed her as far as the door frame but would not step outside.

She continued to warn him, muttering, "Out, out, out" until he threw his voice over hers.

"But it's midnight! They're…"

She let go of the brass door knob, pressing her hands against his chest, catching him off guard with the action. She sent him stumbling backward, the door slamming in his face.

"…asleep," he muttered.

But he refused to leave, knocking on the door repeatedly, his muted cries of "Beckett!" audible from her spot just inside the apartment door as she leaned against it, huddled on the ground, knees grazing against her chin, hands covering her face as her emotions tore through her body in every which way.

He waited still, and she finally came out some minutes later.

"You're still here," she tried to sound surprised that he hadn't left, but in all honesty, she had known from the moment she saw him standing at her door fifteen minutes ago that he was not leaving without fully making himself heard.

"Kate, listen to me."

"Castle. _Out_," she ordered, her resolve beginning to crumble just the slightest bit.

"Kate," he pleaded.

They met each other's gaze, his eyes full of the most peculiar mix of supplication and affection. She'd seen it before- when she told him to go home during the Raglan case, and he brushed that aside, telling her he was her _partner._ She'd seen it after he kissed her, as if he were silently begging her not to kill him for crossing that line.

But there was also something in his voice made her stop dead in her tracks.

He continued.

"There is a sniper on the loose, and he's gunning for you. I am not going to just let you go off into the city on your own."

He was starting to break her.

"Castle, it's my life-"

"I can't watch you drown in this case. I can't let you do that to yourself.."

"Castle-"

"You could be happy, Kate. You deserve to be happy."

He stopped at that, and his eyes communicated it all.

_I want to make you happy, Kate._

But she didn't let the heartfelt words break her walls. It was all too much.

"Please leave, Rick."

* * *

><p><em>"Oh, you hate me a little bit right now, don't you?" - Castle<em>

_That's how I'll probably feel when you guys review, because I bet you guys hate me for the little angst this chapter gave you. I honestly didn't mean for this chapter to be so depressing! It just happened! But I PROMISE that this chapter and the next will be the darkest it gets, and it's honestly not even that bad. This is a dark case, and Kate still needs to sort things out, which you'll see in the next chapter. It'll all make sense and things will get better, and there will be fluff. A little bit of sadness, and then fluff. I promise. In fact, we're almost at the end of part one._

_Oh, another thing. You'll get more Shaw in the next few chapters, too. :)_

_So... review? I'd really like to see this thing just go through the roof with reviews and make it be my most reviewed fic ever- by far. Reviews make people happy, so if you wish to opine, clicketh the review button. Thanks for all the awesome comments so far, guys. You make my day. Seriously. I hope you know that, and I think you guys are just wonderful._

_One last thing- I take full responsibility for grammar and spelling mistakes and all that jazz. I'll fix all of that up eventually, if need be._


	6. Sunday Punch: Chapter Six

_Thanks to all the lovely people who read or reviewed the last chapter. I appreciate it. A lot. Seriously._

_Chances are, there are a few mistakes in this chapter (grammar, spelling, diction, etc.) that I missed and forgot to fix. I take responsibility for that and will fix it eventually. I just wanted to get this chapter up._

_I wish that I had something else today, and honestly, I thought I did. But I guess I really don't have anything to say until the chapter is over. So…I guess that only leaves a couple more things._

_Sorry for the wait. I'm a busy person and sometimes, like Castle, I have no inspiration and mope around waiting for post time at Belmont. (I actually do; I'm a huge horse racing nerd). Not only that, but I really hated writing some of this chapter. I just couldn't get things the way I wanted them to be. But now I'm satisfied. I hope you guys are too._

_This marks the end of part one. The next part is fluffier. And honestly, this chapter should have been the start of part two, but I broke up the last chapter into two parts because it was getting long, and I didn't like the pace of it, and blah blah blah…_

_Enjoy. :) _

* * *

><p><span>Part One: Sunday Punch<span>

_-  
><em>**Chapter Six  
><strong>_-_

Kate waited another fifteen minutes after closing the door on Castle again, just to be sure that when she left, he wouldn't be crouched down on the ground beside her doorway. So in the mean time, she wriggled into a pair of jeans and a loose-fitting white T-shirt and grabbed an energy bar from her pantry (when _was_ the last time she had eaten, anyway?).

Kate arrived at the precinct at 1 AM. As the elevator door cracked open, she caught her first glimpse of Agents Shaw and Avery, dictating orders and conversing with Ryan and Esposito.

She stepped out and began scanning the area, a chaotic mingling of detectives and agents. Kate let out a relieved sigh when she saw that her de facto partner was absent. Just as she was about to call out to Esposito, Ryan spotted her off in the corner of the bullpen, surveying the area.

"Beckett!"

A few detectives paused and curiously whipped their heads in her direction, which was met by Beckett's uneasy glare. The spectators quickly reoccupied themselves.

"Hey guys," she greeted as Esposito bounded up beside his partner.

"So I take it Castle came to see you…," Ryan trailed off.

This was met by a raised eyebrow from Beckett.

"…since you don't seem too surprised by the cavalry of FBI agents," he added nervously.

"He did."

Ryan and Esposito exchanged glances, the subtle annoyed undertone of Beckett's voice not going unnoticed.

Esposito closed a file he was holding, crossing his arms and pressing it against his chest, a brotherly concern crossing his face.

"You wanna talk about it?"

She met the detectives' worried sets of eyes, the edges of her mouth pulling into a small, appreciative smile. She simply shook her head in response.

The detectives averted their eyes to the ground.

And that was that.

An awkward pause followed before Esposito gestured behind him, toward the remodeled war room.

"Agent Avery wanted to debrief."

She nodded and followed the pair, welcomed in by the deep voice of Shaw's partner.

"Detective Beckett."

She nodded again.

"Avery," she responded.

He ushered them toward a smart board, and the four of them discussed everything.

The law firm. The snipers. They were working on warrants. TSA had the name, and it was only a matter of time before Nathaniel Held was cornered.

Ryan and Esposito then brought up Gary McAllister- they would be paying him a visit.

Avery noted that there would be a security detail on Beckett at all times. No exceptions.

However, they were willing to let her work the case, so long as she actually _followed_ the orders of Shaw. There was no reason for her to disobey or go rogue, Avery surmised. Everything was under control.

"I'll do what I can," was her stony reply.

With that, Avery turned on his heel and disappeared, leaving Beckett with a wary look.

She turned away and glared long and hard at the digital murder board, straight into the gruff mugshot of Gary McAllister.

Ryan and Esposito knew her well enough to know what was going through her mind.

Kate Beckett hated to be controlled.

That was when she heard clipped, determined footsteps from behind her, and Kate whirled around to see Jordan Shaw striding toward her.

"Detective," she addressed her in that firm, self-assured tone. "Long time no see."

Kate smiled.

"Agent Shaw. Good to see you."

She mirrored Kate's expression.

"Likewise."

Shaw stopped when she saw the watchful Ryan and Esposito standing staunchly off to her left.

"A word, please?"

Shaw led Beckett outside the war room, and the detective strode beside her as they wound around the hall toward the break room.

"What do you need me to do?"

Shaw stopped suddenly and turned to Beckett.

"Go home."

"What?"

"I can't have you burned out, Beckett. Especially not on such a high-stakes case."

"Agent Shaw, I-"

She cut her off.

"Detective. Consider it an order."

Kate saw the stern look in Shaw's eyes, the one that said she was walking on a very thin line. Despite her personal connection to the case, despite the fact that she knew it better than anyone else, Agent Shaw could kick her off this case.

And if she needed to, she would.

"Yes, ma'am."

She turned to retreat toward her desk and grab her jacket, but Shaw called out to her once more.

"Come back here a second."

Kate whirled around and began to come toward her again.

"I never got to tell you this…," she wavered a bit.

"I'm sorry about your mom."

Kate only nodded and mumbled, "Thank you."

Shaw motioned to the break room, and with a quizzical look, Kate followed her inside.

"Just wondering- did you kick Castle out for this one?"

Kate pursed her lips and looked away.

"No, he's… he's been more helpful on this case than on any other. ""

Shaw cocked her head, eyebrows raised.

Kate sat down on one of the chairs and looked up at her.

"When we first started working together, he started snooping through my mom's case. I had buried it, tried to put it behind me, but he just wouldn't let it go. I've never had someone so intent on figuring out every little thing about me, and poke and prod to get to know me and it-"

"It's because he cares about you, Kate."

Kate's smile ran away from her face, and she sighed.

"I just found out that my boss died trying to protect me, and then I find out that he had something to do with my mom's case. To top it all off, he tells Castle, who then keeps it from me, and I end up being the last to know."

She paused to run a hand through her hair.

"It's a little frustrating."

Shaw stepped closer and sat down beside Kate, grimacing.

"So you fought?" she asked.

Kate only pursed her lips in response.

She went on.

"It's not his fault, you know. He just did what he was told, and, honestly, he just wants to protect you. At least, that's how I'm seeing it."

Kate let out another sigh, shaking her head and looking away.

"Kate, I can only imagine how you're feeling inside, but instead of pushing him away like you seem so intent on doing, I think you need to let him in and let him be your sounding board. Otherwise, you're going to drown in this case, and I don't think the people around you want to see that."

Kate forced a small smile now and nodded.

"Don't get yourself killed over this case, okay? Especially now that it's in a spot where we can manage it and end it- for good this time," Shaw added softly.

"Thank you," Kate mumbled.

Shaw nodded, then cocked her head and studied the ruffled Beckett for a few moments longer. She was trying to figure out what was going on in her head. Trying to profile her.

"I know how hard it is to deal with the loss of a parent," she said finally.

Kate met Jordan's gaze.

"My dad. Lung cancer. I was 13."

Kate's mouth open in a gasp, and she muttered, "I'm so sorry."

"And even now, almost 30 years after the fact, there isn't a day that goes by that I don't think about him. What he'd be like today, what he'd think of my career…," she trailed off at this, and then continued.

"You know, he was always enabling my fascination with crime and justice, much to my mom's dismay. Part of the reason I became who I am today…"

"Guess we have something in common then."

Jordan met Kate's gaze.

"My mom's case is why I became a cop."

She smiled.

"You're afraid to find out who you are now that it's over, aren't you?"

Kate didn't reply.

"Kate, I've been in that same spot. For years after my dad died, I holed up. I became reclusive, stoic. There was no…_ spark_ in me. I just worked constantly- school, part-time jobs, whatever. I thought I was happy, but I wasn't. I got a degree in political science and was going to try to get an internship on the mid-term elections. And then I met Jason, my husband."

Kate kept listening, staring intently at the agent, who sighed.

"Look, I know where you're at, and I know how you feel. But the best thing you can do is let him in, not push him away. Let him be that sounding board that you need. He cares about you, Kate. He cares a lot."

Agent Shaw gave her a weak smile and placed a hesitant hand on top of one of Kate's, gave it a quick squeeze, then rose from the chair. Just like that, she was gone, leaving a stunned and confused Kate in the break room.

She didn't sleep at all that night.

When Kate arrived home, she changed into the same comfortable pair of shorts and NYPD sweatshirt as she had worn the afternoon Castle came over to comfort her.

She went to her room and opened the bottom drawer of her night stand.

She took out Royce's letter and re-read the last paragraph at least ten times.

**XxXxXxXxXxX **

He followed her to the precinct that night. She probably noticed, but she didn't bother to pull over and call him out on it. She didn't want to fight with him. She was too tired to fight.

He parked on the opposite side of the street, making sure that she made it inside safely, before turning the ignition again and driving back to the loft in SoHo.

Despite his yearning to go to her, to see her, to help her, he respected her wishes. He stayed away.

He had willingly given her space for the past two days. He knew that they would have to face each other eventually. Montgomery's funeral was today, and they were going to have to at least pretend to be civil to one another.

Rick had selected an all-black ensemble- dark slacks, a silk black, button down polo, and a suit coat.

Alexis and Martha would be joining him at the funeral. Montgomery had been part of Castle's precinct family, and consequently, he had been a part of Martha and Alexis's family, by extension.

He trailed the casket as Ryan, Esposito, Beckett, and three other officers, all white-gloved and clad in their uniforms, carried it. He bit his lip to fight back tears as he spotted Evelyn Montgomery and her three children, swallowed a lump in his throat when Esposito and Ryan presented her with the folded American flag, and lost his breath when Beckett turned to meet his gaze as she rose to the podium to give the eulogy.

"Roy Montgomery taught me what it meant to be a cop. He taught me that we are bound by our choices, but we are more than our mistakes. Captain Montgomery once told me that for us, there are no victories. There are only battles, and in the end, the best you can hope for is to find a place to make your stand…"

She trailed off at this, overcome with emotion, gripping the sides of the podium.

She cleared her throat and continued.

"And if you're very lucky, you find someone willing to stand with you."

She stole a glance toward Castle, who had been standing not ten feet from her side, waiting to say a few words of his own.

They met each other's gaze briefly before she lowered her head, turned back to her speech, and went on.

He kept his powerful gaze on her before feeling the corner of his eye twitch at something bright. He turned his gaze to the tombstones in the distance and saw it again. A fleeting flash.

Time seemed to stop for the next few moments.

Gun.

Sniper.

_Kate. _

His head quickly whipped toward the perimeter of FBI agents, wondering if they had seen what he had. Shaw seemed to be pointing over to the area from which the flash came, speaking with another agent who stood nearby.

_They weren't moving fast enough. _

There was no way they could stop a sharpshooter in the next five seconds. He was about to shoot. So Castle didn't waste another moment.

He didn't think. He just acted.

"Kate!" he cried out as he launched himself toward the podium, a bullet erupting from the gun's muzzle and roaring toward her as his arms enveloped her.

Their bodies plummeted together in a heap, their fall broken by the sea of grass behind the gravesite.

_-  
><em>**End of Part One  
><strong>_-_

* * *

><p><em>So who got shot? Nobody knows.<em>

_Seriously. I don't even know._

_Let me just say that when I first wrote this, I had no intention of leaving you guys with a cliffhanger. When I first wrote this, Castle got shot. But then I re-wrote it and decided not to let either of them get shot. Now, I'm not sure, so I left out all details of who got shot for the next chapter. _

_I normally don't do this, but I'm going to let you guys influence my decision. So in your reviews, tell me what scenario you want to see- it's kind of a Choose Your Own Adventure with Castle! What could be better? _

_So go ahead. Click the button, review, and tell me if you want Castle, Kate, or neither of them to get shot, or if you just want the sniper to blow up the whole world so this story can be over. And then see what happens next chapter._

_Hope you guys liked it. _


	7. Clinch: Chapter One

_LOOK GUYS! AN UPDATE! Seriously. I am so sorry for the delay. It is 95% to blame on the fact that a few days after my last update, I got a Tumblr account. (the link is in my profile if you want to check it out..) The other 5% goes to my horse. I've been spending so much time with her. But I'm glad I have been. It's fantastic. :) But let me say this- I promise that it won't take almost a month for another update. Really. Seriously. I am so sorry. You can also blame my sister, who has been hoarding our computer. And I really don't want to write fanfiction on my parents' computer. That's..awkward. _

_Another quick note- So who's excited for Season Four? I updated just in time for the ComicCon panel on Sunday! WHEE. So happy. _

_THANK YOU to everyone who has reviewed thus far. I did take your opinions into account this chapter! And I think I did something that will please the majority of you in the long run.. Most creative idea goes to **Oliver Haley**, who suggested that the bullet goes through Castle and into Beckett, and they both end up side by side in recovery. I didn't use that idea, but I really liked the originality!_

_Okay. This marks the beginning of Part Two. It's titled "Clinch" because a clinch in boxing, I guess, is when the two opponents are leaning on each other and not throwing punches. Ehh? Pretty good, right? So maybe that gives you a hint on how this next part will go. _

_And just so you guys remember what's going on, here's a refresher from the last chapter: Kate goes into the precinct. She's pissed off. She has an unexpected heart-to-heart with Shaw. She wants to apologize. So they're both at the funeral. Have eye-sex during Beckett's eulogy ("someone to stand with you.."), and then all hell breaks loose when a sniper shoots at Kate. Got it?_

_Dedicated to **AllusionToAnIllusion**, who has been waiting for this chapter for a long time. Here ya go, twinsy. _

* * *

><p><span>Part Two: Clinch<span>

_Now, they had to stand with each other. Lean on each other._

_-  
><em>**Chapter One  
><strong>_-_

Kate heard a moan come from Castle as they hit the ground, and the detective, unscathed, rolled over to examine her fallen partner.

"Castle…" she murmured, noticing his hand reflexively drawn to his right side.

There was no blood seeping through his fingers, no blood spilling out underneath him and staining the drying green grass red, just the blood-curling cries he emitted as his left hand came to cover the other.

It wasn't stopping her from worrying.

He grunted in pain again as he tried to sit up, the shouts of Esposito the only clear sound that could permeate the screams of the funeral attendees- some cowering in fear beneath their chairs, their loved ones, anything they could find, and others running blindly through endless rows of marble, all rationality gone from them.

"Castle down! Castle down! Lanie! Lanie! We need you over here."

Kate straddled Castle to give herself leverage to press against his rising torso, gently pushing him back on to the ground. Panting heavily, he fought against the pressure of her hand, crunching his body forward. He was only met with more force.

Pain was coursing through him, and he gasped to catch his breath in an attempt to ease his shock. It took him a moment to remind himself:

_I'm not dying. I'm not dying. I'm not dying. _

His sea-colored eyes, clouded with confusion, met hers- they were calm, comforting, and a thin smile graced her lips.

"Shh," she cooed, echoing the sound over and over again as her arm reached around his shoulderblades to support him as she laid him flat against the grass, her face inches from his.

He tried to lift himself up once again.

"No it's okay. Don't get up. It's going to be okay, Rick."

The tenderness in her voice relaxed him, and his breathing slowed. And if there hadn't been a sadistic madman in their presence and his two beloved red-headed women weren't struggling against the grasps of federal agents, holding them back from racing to his side, he could have stayed like this forever.

She noticed the slowing of his breathing and reached a hand out to brush his bangs from his forehead.

"Hey, hey, hey…" she kept mumbling, pleading with him to keep his attention on her. "Stay with me."

He wanted to pull her to him, tell her that he wasn't going anywhere. He was fine. He was okay. He hadn't been shot, and everything was going to be okay. That he was going to stand with her no matter what.

Instead, his dazed mind failed him, and rather than stringing together the most heartfelt confession of feelings he could muster, it simply came out, "I'm fine; it's just my wrist."

She cocked her head. Her eyes widened. She leaned back and puffed out a heavy sigh, mouth falling agape.

Her palm clapped over her lips as she thrust her gaze toward the sky, and she let out another sigh of relief.

And then her hand left her mouth, gently making contact with his shoulder.

He cringed as she did so, and his good hand reached across his chest where she struck him.

A smirk crossed his face as she knelt at his side.

"What was that for?"

"You scared the crap out of me, jackass."

A mirthful sound came from her mouth, in spite of herself, and he found himself lightly sniggering along with her.

_They were going to be okay. _

Beckett turned as she heard Lanie call out to her, and the ME reached the pair just as another round of shots rang out.

**XxXxXxXxXxX **

"Shots fired. We have shots fired at LI National, West Fifth Drive, Section 2U."

The voice of Agent Shaw jarred her officers into motion. Those in the adjoining sections of the cemetery casually but quickly shuffled down the tiny cemetery streets, hands hovering on their Glock 22s.

Another shot erupted over the top of the gravestone the sniper hid behind, striking an agent nearby Avery in the arm.

"We're blown. All units go hot," this command barked from Avery.

A cavalry of Feds swarmed the area, two separating from the group to take care of their injured comrade, as more screams were drowned out by a third crackling muzzle blast which shot straight into the air. A warning. A dare.

_Come get me._

Within seconds, Shaw, Avery, and the SWAT team had formed a perfect semi-circle around the sniper and his post behind the gravestone. Their guns were drawn. They were cool, composed. The epitome of focus.

At the center of the ring was a demoniac man hell-bent on carrying out his order.

It was a compulsion.

_Kill. Kate. Beckett._

His lanky form was nothing to be afraid of. He was really rather average-looking. Jet black hair combed neatly. A middle-class caliber business suit. A large bag at his feet, presumably where he had kept his gun.

Nobody would have looked at him twice.

But what sent a chill though Agent Shaw was the ruthless darkness in his eyes, the excited quiver in his hands as he kicked the bipod under the rifle and leapt to his feet. That barbaric, howling laugh he let out when Shaw told him to give it up, that he was surrounded.

It was all fun and games for the cold-blooded killer, even with twenty-three gun barrels staring him down. He was being tested. It was a thrill.

"Give up?"

His voice seemed to slither out of his throat. Hissing. Twisted. Slimy.

"Put the gun down, Held," Shaw said evenly. "Your buddy McAllister sold you out."

"McAllister," he spat. "That fucking weakling could never keep his damn mouth shut for anything."

Shaw's mouth curled into an unnerving smile. And then she did what she did best.

She profiled.

"We know all about your association with him and the Mayor. We know that he played messenger from the Mayor to you right as this all started to go down- that if anything were to happen, you were going to _continue the mission_. Isn't that right?"

"I did what he told me to do."

"Yes, you did. You always did what he asked. But with each and every hit, every _success, _you became more and more afraid of a failure. What would that mean for you? How would you be punished? Until it became an uncontrollable urge. Every order you _had_ to carry out. Even once the Mayor was arrested…"

Held's rage boiled over, his voice crackling with anger.

"You don't fucking know me!"

His gun was waving around wildly as he continued.

"He would have wanted me to. Once Montgomery was dead, I knew I had to take the final step. It was left in _my_ hands, and the order was to kill her."

The final two words were punctuated with stabs into the air with the barrel of his rifle.

At this, Avery squared his stance and flicked the safety catch off. The magazine was loaded, the intricate rifle aimed directly at the temple of Nathaniel Held.

Shaw distracted him as her partner readied himself for his one chance at a clear shot. If it was needed.

"You're not going to kill her, Held. Just put the gun down, and this can end. Nobody has to die," Shaw responded calmly.

He took two large, heavy steps forward, clinging to his rifle, now pointed at Shaw's chest.

"Don't. Make. A move," he muttered caustically.

"Last warning, Held."

Held's finger searched for the trigger, and Avery reacted without another thought, a round of .308 caliber bullets striking the criminal just above his ear.

Nathaniel Held's body jolted, stiffened, and then limply fell to the ground, limbs contorting all around.

It was finally over.

**XxXxXxXxXxX **

Lanie's preliminary diagnosis was that Castle's right wrist was fractured, and as soon as they could, the doting Martha and Alexis had swept in and immediately demanded that he see a doctor.

He arrived at Mount Sinai in the front seat of an ambulance, the injured agent being tended to in the back.

He waited for what seemed like hours, when in all actuality, it was only thirty minutes. His whole hand was immobilized but still throbbing with pain, and throughout the time he waited, he wondered if by some cruel twist of fate, Dr. Crotch Rocket Josh Davidson would just so happen to pass by the radiology department and see him.

But the doctor who greeted him was anything but Adonis. He was short, round, bald, smiley. Like a cherub. A cherub named Dr. Martin.

Castle was led down to the x-ray room, where he was told to sit in a chair underneath a large, bulky machine, which hung from the ceiling. He lifted his right hand onto a table and carefully spread his fingers apart as much as he could while the lab technician laid a lead shield across his lap. (As the technician had teased him, "Wouldn't want to zap your balls off.")

Dr. Martin informed Castle that he would have full results in the next day or so, and for the time being, a wrist brace would be sufficient in keeping the bones still.

The three thanked the orthopedic doctor, and Martha and Alexis ushered Castle outside before he could try to bargain with Dr. Martin to have his x-ray results done quicker.

"You'll be fine," Martha chided as she theatrically threw her hand in the air to hail a cab.

Alexis exchanged an amused glance with her father before asking him, "Is it feeling okay? Are you alright?"

He sighed and wrapped his un-injured arm around her shoulders and pressed a kiss to her ginger hair.

"Fine, pumpkin. I'm fine."

Shortly after, a yellow car pulled to the curb, and the trio climbed inside, Castle seated in the middle of his mother and daughter.

A short silence followed as they situated themselves for the trip downtown, when Martha finally piped up.

"Richard, I just have to say this."

He cocked his head toward her and furrowed his brow.

"How thoughtful of you to give me a warning, Mother."

She grimaced, a hand covering his knee, her blue eyes staring into a reflection of her own.

"I'm so glad you're okay, but what the hell were you _thinking_? You had Alexis and I worried sick."

Alexis had turned away from them, concentrating on the throngs of people on the sidewalk. But one look at her, and they both knew that there were tears brewing in her eyes. To his daughter, Castle had always seemed invincible. Nothing could possibly take him down. But once he started shadowing Beckett, that had all changed. She worried for his safety daily, even when he first began following the detective around. And after all the times he could have been struck with a bullet, frozen to death, or had been fatally bitten by a man who thought he was a vampire, the intensity of her fear over her father had grown exponentially. Castle cast his eyes down at his splinted hand, then toward his mother again.

"I'm sorry," he mumbled.

Alexis whipped her head toward her father, her pale blue eyes glossy.

"Dad, why did you do that?" she asked in a hushed voice.

Castle peered back down at his wrist and narrowed his eyes, shaking his head.

"She's going to get herself killed."

"She's a grown woman," Martha piped up. "She's a homicide detective, for God's sake! It's her job. It's her life."

His head lolled back against the seat, his palm coming to land across his anguished eyes.

"If anything happens to her…" he trailed off.

Alexis and Martha watched and waited for him to continue, but he only rubbed the hand over his stubbled chin and sighed.

"Oh, Richard."

His mother placed a gently hand on his knee.

"Dad," Alexis began. "Why don't you just tell her?"

He frowned at his daughter- not a frown that was based in disapproval or conceit, but rather misery.

"Lex, it's not…"

"Why?" she cut him off, conviction in her voice. "Why is it so complicated?"

"I don't want to ruin what we have," he responded immediately. "I can't bear to lose that. Do you want to see me become a grumpy old man?"

Alexis pushed aside his attempt at adding a light-hearted tone to the conversation.

"Well, what about Ashley and I? We have a great relationship, and if something were to happen, I don't know that we could ever recover and stay friends. And yet, here we are, taking the risk."

"Alexis…" he admonished.

But Martha wouldn't have it, either.

"Richard, the girl has a point."

He shot his mother a harsh look, but she continued.

"You care for that girl more than any woman I've ever seen you with. You wouldn't have taken a bullet for Meredith or Gina. Hell, I don't even know if you would have done that for Kyra."

Castle found comfort in once again staring down at his cock-up splint, the fingers of his free hand poking at the fuzzy Velcro.

Alexis sighed and circled her arm around his bicep, giving it a little squeeze.

"Dad, don't let her slip away."

**XxXxXxXxXxX **

Kate took a tepid step toward the door of the morgue, debating whether or not it was in her best interest to walk in. She knew that Lanie would bring up the funeral, ask her if she was feeling alright, and then that would inevitably lead to a conversation about Castle, in which Kate would swear up and down that nothing was going on.

It had happened so many times before. Different precursory events, same end result.

But Kate had an odd feeling of loneliness creeping through her, and she found that being amidst a hoard of FBI agents did little to cure that. She could have let the antics of Ryan and Esposito entertain her; they were upstairs with the agents as well, but she found that she wasn't in the mood for their company.

What she needed was girl talk.

So Kate grappled the handle and swung it open, her eyes spotting a quick blur of brown, blue, pink, and silver crashing onto the ground.

Lanie had been carrying a tray of tools and had dropped them in surprise at Kate's entrance.

"Girl, you better be thankful that I work with dead bodies and not live ones! Could have poked someone's eye out with that flying scalpel."

Kate only smirked and replied, "Well, hello to you too."

"Sorry, but you scared me! I told you I don't expect the living after seven."

The detective's smirk curled into a bigger smile.

"It's only five."

Lanie crossed her arms and shot her friend a critical look.

"Yeah," she brushed off the comment and sarcastically remarked, "Well, I think the real question is what brings you down here rather than you going out and getting your freak on with Writer Boy?"

Kate narrowed her eyes and sneered as she watched Lanie turn and perch herself on top of an autopsy table.

"Awfully forward today, Lanie."

She shrugged.

"Not in the mood to be my usual witty self. It's been a hard day."

"My point exactly."

The medical examiner let out a heavy sigh.

"Come on, Kate."

The detective noticed her friend's change in tone. Kate leaned against the door, placing her hands on her hips, staring at the tile floor.

In a muted tone, she said, "Do you know how scared I was that he got shot?"

Lanie's eyes softened, and she gave Kate a sympathetic look, mumbling reassuringly, "But he didn't, honey. He's okay. You're okay."

Kate met Lanie's gaze and grimaced, shaking her head.

She had to be honest with Lanie. She never had been a good liar. Whenever her friend made a comment about her and Castle, she never denied it. She just shot a snide comment back at her ("I think you've been inhaling too many autopsy fluids"). When Castle had called her out on being jealous of Shaw during the Dunn case, she made it clear that she was no jealous… just embarrassed.

And then she had proceeded to spill her guts over the fact that she hated that he was building theory with her.

Verbally, Kate Beckett was terrible at lying.

Inwardly, she had been lying to herself for three years.

Lanie had no idea about their fight, so it seemed, and if Kate was going to find a way to make herself feel better about what had happened, she needed to be open and truthful. And the words leaked out before she had a chance to control it.

"We had a fight. About the files he sent Montgomery…"

Lanie interrupted with an awkward smile and a blush.

"I know. _Javi_ told me that you two seemed a little off."

Kate's eyebrow quirked upward, and she shot Lanie a knowing look.

She rolled he eyes in response.

"I mean, _Detective Esposito_ told me."

Kate grinned and knew that in the coming days, she would definitely have to grill Lanie about the sordid details of her relationship with Esposito.

A short silence followed as Lanie regained her composure, and Kate's mind jumped back to the day's events. She sighed.

"I just couldn't imagine how I would live with myself if something had happened to him today… you know? Trying to save _me_."

"Well have you talked about it?"

Kate shook her head and mumbled, "I've just been thinking about it a lot lately."

More silence.

Her thoughts ran back to their fight. He called her out on everything. The kiss. The freezer. She remembered L.A. and everything he had told her. How he hadn't left her no matter how hard she tried to get rid of him. How she continuously_ amazed_ him. She thought of Conrad. How he wanted her all to himself. Her brain was dancing between all those memories until she could barely see straight. And then the montage suddenly faded when she squeezed her eyes shut and placed her hands over her face.

_If only. If only. If only. _

Royce's words started to play over and over again in her mind. She couldn't hide from it. He was going to be everywhere she went until she gave in. She had admitted it to herself. She wanted him. She needed him. But she hadn't acted on it.

Lanie's kind voice mercifully brought her introspection to a screeching halt.

"Baby, you need to go talk to him and see what the rest of us see. Honestly. He risked his life for you today. You've saved each other how many times now? And if you can look at me with a straight face with your hand on a stack of Bibles and say that you aren't in love with Richard Castle, then you definitely need to get that pretty little head of yours checked out."

Kate simply stared back at her and pursed her lips.

_If only. If only. If only. _

_Damn it. _

"I gotta go."

Lanie gave her friend a knowing look, smiled brightly, and nodded.

"Good luck, Kate."

* * *

><p><em>Sorry. I have never broken a wrist or any bone in my body, so all information was stolen from various medical websites. So if I got it wrong.. whoops. <em>

_I tried to make it up to you guys with a long chapter- this puppy is a little over 3,200 words. I really hoped it was satisfactory. I would love to hear your feedback in the reviews! _

_Because.. I love reviews almost as much as I love Stana Katic. That's a lot._


	8. Clinch: Chapter Two

_A/N: So um.. hi. Look, you probably all hate me for not updating this in over two months. Maybe some of my readers jumped ship. I'm sorry, guys. Really. Life happens. And all I'm going to say is I got sidetracked because I became obsessed with Rizzoli and Isles (Rizzles ftw), and then school started. And just... lots... has been happening. But thanks to the insistence of my fellow Tumblr-ians, most notably Shannon, here is chapter eight. _

_Can I promise quicker updates? No. Can I promise that this will be completed? Most definitely. And guess what, now Castle is back. Hooray. Let's all be happy. (: _

_Also- I hope you guys will like this chapter. I tried to make it SUPER Caskett-heavy as an apology. (Well, actually I had already planned on it before I went MIA, but still. It's a peace offering, dears.)_

_Enjoy?_

* * *

><p><span>Part Two: Clinch<span>

_-  
><em>**Chapter Two  
><strong>_-_

The pain in his hand had dulled somewhat in the past few hours. He was trying to balance ice cubes along his bruised fingers, both to entertain himself and to help ease the aching.

Martha and Alexis had left about fifteen minutes ago to go to dinner at a café down the street, and he was left to his own devices.

As he sat alone in his office, he found his thoughts drifting back to the funeral. He was angry that Captain Montgomery couldn't have been buried in peace. He was heart-broken that Jim Beckett had to see his daughter nearly terribly injured. And he was stunned that Kate had cared enough to stay by him, thinking that he had been shot.

They hadn't talked since their fight, and he was amazed that she hadn't seemed to be mad at him.

When it came down to it, she was still there for him.

_If you're very lucky, you find someone willing to stand with you. _

It wasn't coincidence that she looked directly at him when she said it. And if it was, he would gladly spend the rest of his life denying it. That look in her eyes… it was one of forgiveness. Of apology for her _own_ mistakes.

Where we they supposed to go from here? They had all but admitted their feelings to each other, but the conflict caused by Montgomery's death had torn them apart once again. Things had been said- things they couldn't take back. They had avoided the kiss, their near-death experiences, for so long, and the issues were being pushed to the surface.

The freezer haunted him in his dreams at least once a week. The feel of her lips were constantly on his mind. The fact that she had chosen him over Josh. He couldn't suppress the feelings anymore.

His rapidly moving thoughts were halted when he thought he heard a soft knocking on the door. He rose from his desk and headed toward the foyer, reaching for the door and opening it.

On the other side was Kate Beckett.

She looked nervous, but determined.

She would never admit it, but she was tormented. That night in L.A. when she almost gave in, their fight, her break up with Josh…

She was crazy about Castle. And she was afraid. If a relationship ended poorly- hell, if the relationship ended at all- she wasn't sure how she could come back from that. She'd fall down the rabbit hole again. Neither of them could screw up. It was a risk she had calculated in her mind over and over again.

But everything was bubbling up inside her, the pressure consuming her. If the past weeks had taught her anything, it was that they didn't have forever to dance around each other. She physically ached from how much it frustrated her. It was building up inside of both of them. Their armor was cracking, their fuses running short.

And they were about to explode.

She couldn't hold it in any longer either.

"Beckett."

Her eyes fell to the floor as she greeted, "Hey, Castle."

"Do you want to come in?"

She gave a small smile and met his eyes.

"Yeah, that'd be nice."

He stepped aside and allowed her to walk past him into the loft. He turned away from her to close the door, taking a deep breath to calm his throbbing heart and the uncomfortable tightness in his stomach.

_Why is she here?_ His thoughts automatically went to worst-case scenarios.

He tried to keep his voice smooth, but his "Can I get you anything?" came out rather squeaky.

She cocked an eyebrow but then simply replied, "No, I'm good. Thanks."

He watched her for bit, with query, studying her. The reason she was here had to be written on her face- he just couldn't find it. Was she kicking him out after he put himself in danger today? Was she going to leave again? Had she changed her mind about them?

"Something wrong?" he finally asked.

She had been expecting the question, knew it was coming, but she was still affected by it, still trembled when she realized what she was about to do.

"I just…I thought I'd come see how you were doing."

He nodded.

"Oh, right. Hell of a day."

That produced a small smile from her.

"Sure was."

Silence fell over them.

After a few moments, he took a deep breath and headed for the couch, resting his elbows on his knees and leaning forward. Whatever the reason she was here, it seemed as though he was going to have to pry.

But she surprised him when, seeing his mild irritation, she said, "Look, I just wanted to say I'm sorry."

He stared up at her. She was directly in front of him, arms folded across her body, watching him anxiously, looking almost fragile. Vulnerable.

"For what?"

She began to speak, then nipped at her lip to stop herself. She took a seat beside him on the couch, exhaled, and continued.

"I overreacted. Montgomery sent those files to you and gave you specific instructions to tell me because he knew me."

She trailed off and swallowed hard, her voice much softer now.

"Because_ you_ know me."

Castle was almost positive that his heart was knocking into his ribcage. She had so vehemently pushed him away just days earlier. She hadn't wanted to let him in, and now she was explicitly acknowledging that he understood her. He got her like nobody else ever could.

"And as much as this is my life, I throw myself headlong into these situations without thinking about the people I care about. I mean, my dad, Lanie, the boys…"

She trailed off again as she averted her gaze to the carpet.

"Me," Castle broke in.

She met his eyes again, and a smile crossed her face.

"I'm so sorry for pushing you away."

He shrugged and shook his head.

"It's okay."

She frowned. He seemed distracted, like something else was on his mind. And he knew. So Castle paused and continued.

"I said things I can't take back as well. I'm sorry for that. I'm just- I'm frustrated," he mumbled.

Their eyes locked on each other, and they were both back in Beckett's apartment. And that one question she posed, the one that said that they couldn't just go back to normal without some sort of consequence and some sort of pain for both of them, echoed in their minds.

_Is that what we are?_

Her gaze was alternating between his eyes and his lips, and his body seemed to be slowly gravitating close to her. It was magnetic. Hypnotic.

She murmured, "I think I know what we are."

His breath caught in his throat, and his eyebrows jumped.

Hesitantly, she reached for him, and she took his splinted hand in her own, fingers ghosting down the stitching and onto his forearm.

He placed his other hand on top of hers, staring at her.

"Kate."

She nervously met his eyes.

"I know we said we'd talk about this at some point. But if you're not ready…"

"No, Rick," she began, before any ounce of rationality could find its way back into her head. "I want this."

His grip on her hand tightened.

"I want_ us_. You and me. Diving in together. That's what I want us to be. As long as that's what you want."

He drew his injured hand back toward him and brought the other from its place covering her knuckles up to her cheek.

Her hands dropped to her lap as his forehead came to rest against hers, his thumb caressing her cheekbone, causing her eyes to flutter closed.

"I want us. I've been waiting almost four fucking years just to be with you."

That was all the confirmation she needed.

She pulled back from his touch and opened her eyes again, reaching up to his pulse point, which she felt throbbing wildly, and covered his jaw and neck.

Their breath mingled, and the aroma of cherries filled his senses. It filled his nostrils. It burned in this throat. He felt her all around him, intoxicating. And she smiled. That genuine, light, crinkling smile.

He leaned forward, and his lips found hers- soft and warm.

She relaxed into him, tilting and deepening the kiss. She nipped at his lower lip and encircled her arms around his neck.

His tongue ran tantalizingly along her lips, desperate to meet hers. A hand snaked into his hair, and her open mouth attacked him, the feel and taste of her sweet and heavy on his tongue.

Their mouths melded together perfectly, tongues exploring, lips sliding, bodies pulsing at the significance of the moment.

They danced together in perfect rhythm, and he clung to her, never wanting her warmth to leave him.

He heard a moan rumble deep in her throat, and he could barely keep his hands from shaking as he caressed up and down her back. One hand found the nape of her neck, while the injured hand remained protectively on the small of her back as she pressed herself even closer to him, pushing him on his back, unleashing more passion into the kiss.

The way her lips felt against his. The way her tongue was stroking his. The way her fingertips were running through his hair, down the side of his face, gently tugging his earlobe.

"Apples," he groaned against her lips, but she kept touching him, driving him insane.

Rick knew then that they had to stop before he completely lost all self-control, and after two failed attempts, he broke away from Kate completely, both of them panting, eyes half-lidded and drunk with desire.

"Oh my god, Kate," he mumbled in a husky voice.

She leaned in again, her nose brushing against his in an Eskimo kiss, and he let out a groan, pressing himself further back against a pillow.

"Kate, please, stop," he whined.

She pulled back again, biting her lip to hide the satisfied smirk that was creeping up her face.

"My mom and Alexis are going to be back soon… I really don't want them walking in and uh, seeing us in a, um, compromising position."

He quickly backpedalled when her eyebrows jumped up, and her mouth fell agape in mock hurt.

"No, it's not that I'm embarrassed or don't want to be seen with you…" He trailed off. "I just thought… you always seemed… I assumed you wanted to…"

"Keep this under the radar for awhile?" she finished, twirling one of the buttons of his shirt between her fingers.

"Yes."

She sighed, carefully crawling off his chest and sitting beside him again as they both sat up. She reached for his hand and rested their entangled fingers on his knee, staring down at them and then looking into his eyes.

"Rick," she started. "Do I want Esposito and Ryan knowing about this right away so they can give us hell about it? No, I really don't. Not quite yet. Give it a week or two. And I sure as hell don't want any of this on Page Six. I want us to figure out where this is going first before _they _know. But Martha and Alexis- they're your family. They deserve to know."

He watched her intently as she spoke. They were making progress. This was really happening. They were- dare he say it- setting ground rules. It warmed his heart to hear her say that she wanted his mother and daughter to know right away. He knew that Martha would be thrilled. She had been waiting on this for nearly four years. And Alexis, she saw Beckett as a role model, and despite the fact that Castle had so reckless put his life on the life of her, she did admire Kate.

And then he deadpanned, "So this means we can't have a quickie in an interrogation room?"

She rolled her eyes and slapped his knee hard to reprimand him.

But then a coy smile graced her face, and she leaned in towards his lips, and the scent of cherries caused his heart to beat faster once again. Then she grazed past his face and towards his ear, whispering, "Maybe a few months down the road."

* * *

><p><em>I like reviews a lot.<em>


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